#and I feel like I have a million emotions and words to say and express but they’re all just trapped

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty seven

authors note: none.

cw/tw: angst, threats of violence, csa survivor being triggered

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 13k

Solana gasps when the familiar scent of her husband’s cologne, strong yet subtle, invades her nostrils conjoined with the welcoming embrace of his strong arms around her body. Naturally, she turns around from the counter where she was putting away dishes, a small smile on her face as he rests his hands on the small of her back. 

However, her grin dims a bit when she sees he’s fully dressed. “You’re leaving already?”

Roman nods, explaining, “I need to get back on track. The sooner, the better.” 

His words, logically, make sense. But, they do nothing to abate her nerves. “What if you worked from home?” She then proposes in an almost selling manner. “I called off today anyway, so I’ll be here in case you need something.”

Something being a euphemism for the word anything. In the few days that have passed since the funeral, Solana has continued to stay with and watch her husband like a hawk. Ready to support him in any way that he needs, the memory of him breaking down in front of her, holding her while he cried into her stomach, something she will never forget.

Something he desperately needed.

And something he hasn’t outright spoken about. She gets it. Understands how both major and uncomfortable that had to have been for him. Emotions are tricky and confusing, and for someone who’s used to pushing them away, feeling them all at once can be….an experience.

His thick brows furrow slightly, as he asks the million dollar question. “Why’d you call off?”

Shit.

A couple of reasons. 

Beyond just the obvious of wanting to be physically present and available for him.

One, while her husband was in their home gym, trying to work off some of his still heavy emotions, she sat near the toilet for almost twenty minutes, vomiting twice and afraid of a third occurrence, hence her not leaving. Second, Solana still feels not the best—morning sickness attacking her with all the rage the past two days. Three, she has the appointment today. 

And none of these things can be said to the man before her who looks understandably confused. 

So, she goes with a not entirely untrue answer but not the full truth either. “Didn’t really feel up to it today.” Her fingers scrunch the soft material of his shirt. “Besides, I didn’t want to leave you alone….”

And that is not a lie. Solana has tried her best to keep reminding herself that she can’t be with her husband 24/7, but given how they have been together practically 24/7 for over a week straight, it’s kind of hard not to want that to continue.

She’s anxious at the thought of not being nearby in case he needs something.

In case he needs her.

Roman shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.” There’s a hint of concern etched in his handsome features as he asks, “are you sure you’re okay?” Solana does her best to remain with a neutral expression even as his shifts into something of a frown. “Feel like you’ve been sick a lot lately...”

“Stress,” she answers. Again, technically not a lie. “It’s just been…..a lot recently.” But then, she feels bad because she sees that he feels bad. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I just need to make sure you’re….okay enough.”

Because wanting him to be good is a ridiculous expectation. Not with what he’s just been through. She knows better than anyone how recovery from a major loss like that can take some time. 

A lot of time.

Roman’s still looking at her unconvinced. Like….like there’s something he’s not saying.

Or asking.

And, it’s unnerving, because sitting on a pile of secrets is always stressful enough. Adding in her overtly protective and possibly suspicious husband is even more unsettling and not anything she can tolerate right now.

“I’ll come see you at lunch then,” she suggests, partially wanting to actually check on him mid-day but also needing them to get off this subject. 

It seems to work, as he objects, “you don’t have to do that, Sol.”

“But, I want to,” she counters, lifting her palm to his cheek. “You’ve helped me get to the point where I’m okay….now it’s my turn.”

Solana is unsure what okay will look like for Roman, because everyone’s definition is different. But, whatever it is, whatever it requires, she’s willing and ready to walk with him, right by his side, the entire time.

Roman leans down and kisses her forehead, muttering, “come with me.” He straightens back up and goes to grab her hand, explaining, “I want to show you something.” 

Solana nods and allows him to walk them out the kitchen and past the living room where she sees Dulce sleeping peacefully in her bed. Roman guides them up the steps and into their bedroom only for her to gasp, turning to him with a small smile. “Roman? What is all of this?”

This referring to the more than several set of small to medium black, luxury shopping bags with a foreign word written in calligraphy sitting on the dresser. Moving closer, another gasp when she realizes they’re almost all filled with various sized jewelry boxes. 

“When did you even….” She trails off, grabbing a random box and opening it, mouth dropping at the stunning diamond necklace. “Roman, this is beautiful.” Because it is, and she’s certain every other piece he’s apparently purchased for her is just as stunning. 

He’s moved over towards her, arms crossed as he explains, “it’s handmade Italian jewelry. I wasn’t sure exactly what you’d like best, so I just got it all.” He says it so casually, Solana’s eyes widening at the thought of how much all of this could have cost. 

“How much did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismisses, pushing some of her hair out of her face. “You’re worth it all.”

His words warm her heart and make those butterflies form as her eyes land on something else. Carefully closing the box and placing it back inside the bag, she’s quick with grabbing the beautiful brown leathered book. “You got me journals!” It’s said with such elation, almost childlike, evoking a chuckle from Roman. The smile on her face widening as she runs her hand over the soft cover. Opening said journal, an engravement on the inside of the front cover catches her attention. It’s written in what she would guess is Italian.

Italian jewelry. Italian leather, most likely. Putting two and two together would indicate these are gifts he got her while he was away in Italy. A realization that makes her heart flutter. He was there on business yet still made time for her.

Always thinking of her.

Moved and now especially curious about the words she cannot read for herself, Solana asks, “what does it say?”

And without even reading it, Roman speaks in Italian, moving his hand to gently cup her face as he translates in a quiet voice, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Her heart swells, eyes shutting momentarily to bask in the moment. Love is such a beautiful, sacred thing, treasured and coveted. Something she’s found, so deeply and heavenly, with him.

Always with him. 

And it’s in that moment, as she leans up and kisses him, reciprocating her vow of love, that it hits her. 

Solana knows exactly what tattoo she wants to get for her husband.

————

The minute the backdoor is opened and Roman slides in the SUV, he’s met with Dwayne’s hulking frame, phone glued to his ear.

“I don’t fucking care if it’s impossible. Make it possible,” he barks. Roman chuckles. His cousins’s temper can rival his at times, and this aggression and irritation that fills the SUV makes it a bit easier for him to drift from sorrow to business. 

Emotions have always been…..weird for him. Something he’s always possessed but worked tirelessly to push away and suppress, only to ever really reveal and express around one woman before Solana.

Fetu.

She was always his safe space. His anchor. His safety.

Her being gone isn’t something that’s computed, that’s truly set in, that he’s accepted. Or, maybe he has. Maybe it was that crushing realization that not only is she gone but that he didn’t even get to see or speak to her one last time that made him break down in his wife’s arms.

Years.

It’s been years since Roman has cried. Not since the day of the funerals where he refused to leave the gravesite of his deceased family. Where he cried and apologized profusely for hours for not being able to save them.

For failing them and not being strong enough to do so.

That….that was the last day he’d allowed himself to shed a tear.

Until now.

It was both a strange, liberating experience. One he never wants to experience again but also…..needs.

Two opposing forces that make little sense and account for a shit ton of cognitive dissonance. 

The only thing that does make sense is his wife.

Solana.

That is the one thing, the one person he needs. Now more than ever.

And she’s been nothing but his rock throughout this whole thing. Even when he tried to push her away and ice her out, she stayed. Supported him. Helped him. Cared for him. Loved him. 

He wasn’t lying when he told her he couldn’t have made it through this without her.

He couldn’t.

At all. 

And as nice as being with her, not having to think or focus on anything but himself and all of his heavy ass emotions has been, it couldn’t last forever. 

Because as much as he still feels not okay, he’s gotta pull it together. 

One way or another. 

“Yeah….that’s what I fucking thought,” Dwayne snaps, pulling Roman from his thoughts, before snatching the phone from his ear and smashing the red end button. “Fucking incompetent pieces of shit.”

“Do I want to know?” Roman asks, even though he really wants to substitute want with need. Right now, essential information and problems is all he wants to tackle this day. It’s bad enough his Wise Man is out sick.

Paul is usually the buffer and filter for all the bullshit, something Roman truly has little patience for on most days, even more on a day like today.

“Naw.” Dwayne shakes his head. “I got it.” He turns to his cousin as Roman signals for the driver to start driving. “How you doing?”

A dumbass question in Roman’s mind, but he doesn’t say as such. “Fine.” He’s not, but as easy as Dwayne can be to talk to sometimes, if Roman is going to talk to someone about feelings and shit, it’s going to be his wife.

And, well, her. 

Maybe. 

“Bullshit,” Dwayne calls him out, lightly shoving his shoulder. “But, getting back into the swing of things might be helpful for you. You like yelling at people.”

“I shouldn’t have to though,” is the easy counter. “People should just do their fucking job.”

Dwayne gestures to his phone. “That’s what I just told this dumbass.” Roman snickers and shakes his head as his older cousin clears his throat and suddenly asks, “that wife of yours talk to you?”

Roman easily hides the way his shoulders tense at being asked about Solana. “About?”

Dwayne’s expression shifts into something a bit more serious, and this isn’t lost upon Roman. “About what went down with Rikishi?”

“Yes.” The answer to that is easy and simple. Solana did technically tell him something happened between her and his older cousin, but she did not say specifics. And he knows that was for a reason. “Now tell me what really happened.”

————

The conference room is already filled with the expected persons by the time Roman and Dwayne arrive. All but two chairs are occupied as Jimmy, Jey, Solo, Rikishi, and Matteo wait with various expressions. The sons and father seem to be engaged in quiet conversation while Matteo keeps to himself, preoccupied with the phone in his hand.

That dynamic is about all that Roman can make out as he marches right into said conference room, Dwayne not too far behind. The men are barely able to finish standing when Roman marches right over to Rikishi’s chair, grabbing him by his collar, snatching him out the chair and shoving him against the nearest wall. 

Roman is somewhat cognizant of the voices of shock and protest around him, but it doesn’t make a single fucking difference.

He’s seeing red.

Muscled forearm barred against Rikishi’s fat neck, he finds joy in the way the older man’s eyes are bulging and the almost desperate way his chubby fingers try to push him away. “If you ever in your fucking life raise your hand to her again, I’ll kill you! You understand me!” Roman relishes in the absolute fear emanating from the man before him. Good. “Don’t you ever fucking disrespect my wife!”

By now, Roman is a bit more cognizant to the hands grasping at him, trying to pull him away from his target.

“Ayo, Uce, what the hell you doing!” Jimmy’s voice makes it past the thick wall of anger that fills and consumes Roman as he thinks about this fucker having to audacity to try to hit his wife.

Over Roman’s dead fucking body will anyone disrespect Solana. Especially his family.

“Get the hell off him!” Roman is finally “pulled” away from a now gasping, coughing Rikishi. It’s truly Roman’s decision to let go, because ain’t no way in hell not a man in that room could stop him from killing this son of a bitch right now if he wanted to.

And a part of him does. He really does. But, it’s hard to tell how much of that desire is fueled by his grief vs logic. 

But, it’s when Roman realizes both Jey and Solo are standing in front of a reddened face Rikishi, while Jimmy tends to his dad, that he really gets pissed the fuck off. They have the audacity to look like they’re ready to jump him. “What ya’ll about to do, huh?” Roman challenges, ready for whatever. As he always is. “Ya’ll ain’t about to do shit!” 

And maybe, just maybe, they are. Doesn’t matter. He’ll kick both their asses and make their daddy watch. 

Jimmy then moves over after helping Rikishi to his feet. “Roman, what the hell are you even talking about?”

Chin jutted in Rikishi’s direction, his answer is cold and direct. “Ask him.”

Another harsh cough followed by an unexpected answer as he moves to the side, no longer completely obscured by the protective wall of two of his sons. “She hit me first. Did she tell you that?”

At that answer, both Jey and Jimmy look slightly taken back. Solo just continues to glare at Roman, who’s tempted to knock him out for that disrespect alone.

“She did,” Dwayne suddenly chimes, him and Matteo simply watching the scene unfold without a hint of interference. For now. “But, this was only after you made fun of her being abused and basically told her she was useless because she hasn’t produced an heir yet.” Just hearing it again has Roman’s eyes closing and hand fisting at his side. Rage. “Regardless, you know the rules. We don’t put our fucking hands on women.” And then an almost knowing comment/question. “Or have you forgotten?”

It’s a simple question, but it feels like there’s a story there. The way anger flashes in Rikishi’s face and eyes, something similar to what’s painted on his twins faces. Roman, however, is redirected from wondering if there was more to said comment by Jimmy and Jey switching their focus back to their dad.

“Dad, did you really do that?” Jimmy is the one to ask, shaking his head. “Tell me you ain’t say that shit.”

Rikishi doesn’t hesitate to defend himself. “The girl was out of line.”

“Aye,” Jimmy is the one to cut him off. “Her name is Solana, alright?”

“Just let him talk,” Jey interrupts. “Two sides to every story.”

“Not when it’s a man trying to hit a woman,” Jimmy counters. “Making fun of her trauma and shit.”

Jey is also not backing down. “Look, we weren’t there, alright?”

“But, I was, and I saw exactly what went down,” Dwayne reminds, crossing his arms. 

“And if I may,” Matteo suddenly enters the conversation, Jey only looking more irritated than before. “Under no circumstance should a man try to hit a woman. Ever.” 

Jey doesn’t hesitate to try to put Matteo in his place. “Aye, look, this don’t involve you, alright. This Bloodline business.” 

“I suggest you lower your voice.” Matteo’s own voice takes on an icy tone as he so chillingly threatens, “I’d hate to have to spill your blood in front of your family. On this otherwise lovely day, too. A shame.”

Matteo’s very real threat only further incenses Jey. “I know you not fucking threatening me.” He steps forward, Solo reaching to restrain his older brother. “Man, I’ll knock your ass out!”

Matteo smiles. “I look forward to seeing you try.”

Jey points to Roman, “you better get your fucking boy, Roman.”

Roman couldn’t care too much about that. “Tell your fucking dad to keep his hands off my wife.”

“Man, you overreacting! He ain’t even touch her!”

Roman growls, “just because you don’t give a fuck about your bitch of a wife—”

“What the hell you just say?” At that, Jey’s very paltry sense of resolve breaks. “I told you, you not gon’ keep disrespecting my wife, or we gon have problems!”

Roman goes to move toward Jey, never ever scared when both Matteo and Dwayne go to restrain him. “If you gon do something, do it!” It takes a great amount of strength from both men to hold back an irate, borderline unhinged Roman. “I’ll whoop you and your daddy’s ass, and if Solo keeps looking at me like he’s lost his goddamn mind, I’ll kick his ass too!”

“That’s enough!” Jimmy finally cuts in, also going to restrain Jey, standing between an almost standoff. Rikishi, Solo, and Jey vs Roman, Dwayne, and Matteo. “Everybody just needs to calm down!”

“Your anger is misplaced, Uce.” Rikishi sounds, Dwayne still holding onto Roman’s arm while Matteo has loosened his grip in favor of focusing on the other three, waiting to see if they’ll do something. “Especially considering I was the one who tried to plead on your behalf just this morning,” he taunts almost, as if trying to get under Roman's skin even further. 

And, it partially works. 

Roman doesn’t need anyone to do shit for him.

“Plead for what?” Dwayne is the one to ask, recognizing verbalizations are a much better alternative to the physical melee that’s on the horizon if de-escalation doesn’t start. And fast. 

Rikishi straightens up, adjusting his tie, almost as if he’s trying to act like his life didn’t just end suddenly and violently. “The Elders have grown tired of waiting for the Tribal Chief to produce an heir.” Dwayne tightens his grip ever so slightly, feeling Roman try to inch away from him. “You and your wife are to conceive by the end of the year….or else.”

It’s almost an instant thing, several sets of eyes all on Roman, most of which trying to anticipate and navigate his next move.

Meanwhile, Roman’s mouth shifts, his nose snarled as he finds himself shouting, Dwayne again having to hold him back from lunging. “Or else what!”

Rikishi’s voice is eerily calm as he answers in an even voice, “they will make you divorce Solana and take a new wife of their choosing this time.”

————

There’s an emptiness she feels sitting in the patient room, waiting for the nurse to walk in. Roman’s absence is noticeable and heavy, and she hates it. Hates that this is yet another thing that she has to keep from him.

That she’s chosen to keep from him, because at this point, these are choices she’s making. 

She chose to not tell him about her potentially being pregnant. Chose to not tell him once the pregnancy was confirmed. And chose to still not tell him even as she sits at her first OB-GYN appointment.

And yes, all of that may be for good reasons, for her wanting to protect and be mindful of where he is mentally and emotionally.

Still, it doesn’t negate the fact that it sucks.

And that it hurts.

It hurts a lot. 

Following a small knock and opening of the door, Solana looks up from her lap and wipes away at her blurry gaze, offering a small smile to the nurse who’s just walked in. “Hello.”

She’s young, probably close to Solana’s age, her scrubs revealing a slim, lithe figure. Her dark hair cascades down her shoulders and frames her features nicely. She’s a stunning woman. 

A woman, however, who fails to reciprocate Solana’s kind gesture. Not right away, at least. Awkwardly clearing her throat, she greets, “Mrs. Reigns. I didn’t—they didn’t tell me it was you…..give me just one minute?” The nurse doesn’t wait for a reply, just leaves a confused Solana sitting in the patient room wondering just what the hell is going on.

She’s just about ready to step out into the hallway when the nurse returns, quietly closing the door behind her. “I’m so sorry.” 

Solana has to ask, nails nervously tapping against the bed. “Is….is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she answers. Quickly. Too quickly. “Shit, no.” Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she walks over to Solana and offers one of the wildest introductions ever. “My name is Sasha, and I know you don’t know me, and I’m probably crazy as hell for even telling you this, but I—I used to sleep with your husband.”

Solana’s shoulders slump at the same time her chest tightens. “W–what?”

Sasha’s eyes go wide as she shakes her head and explains. “It’s been months. Like not since the beginning of this year, but I—I was one of the ones…..” She presses her fingers to her temples. “God, this is so messed up. I’m so sorry to do this to you. I tried to see if another nurse could handle you, but everyone is busy and…..fuck.”

Fuck is most definitely the right world. Of all the places. Of all the nurses. Solana just so happens to get the one nurse who used to be one of her husband’s fuck buddies.

Go fucking figure.

“I haven’t spoken or done anything with him in months. I swear.” She then lifts her left hand to show off a beautiful engagement ring. “Funnily enough, this is actually my last week working here. My fiance—long story— and I are from the same town, and he just got a job back home, so we’re moving next week.” She adds in a bitter tone, “kinda wish it was this week now.”

With the absence of Solana’s voice, Sasha proceeds to fill the silence. “Mrs. Reigns, I really am sorry. I know I had no business still sleeping with your husband after you two got married, but we’d been….intimate on and off for years, and he was just someone—”

“Please,” Solana finally speaks, voice low and soft. “Please don’t. I—I get it.”

Because with the shock worn off and the discomfort waning, as irritating as this is, it doesn’t necessarily matter. 

This Sasha woman was Roman’s past. Solana knows that she’s his present and future, so from that logic, what reason does she have to be upset?

At least with Sasha.

She does, however, have a reason to be nervous.

Hand naturally falling to her stomach, she says in a much more desperate voice than she’d like, “you can’t tell anyone—”

“Are you kidding me?” Her eyes widen once more as she shakes her head. “Outing the Tribal Chief’s wife’s pregnancy is a sure way for me to go missing, and I’d actually like to make it down the aisle.” Sasha visibly tenses, suddenly asking in a lowered voice. “Wait, is he he—”

“No.” That’s it. That’s the only answer Solana can bring herself to give. And it seems enough, Sasha nodding before the two settle into an awkward silence.

“Is it okay if…..if we get started?”

Solana nods, still a bit boggled by the whole situation but recognizing that it’s not the priority. 

“Of course,” she agrees. 

All things considered, Sasha is the epitome of professionalism. She asks her questions, takes down the information given to her, draws Solana’s blood and directs her to the bathroom where the pregnant woman gives a urine sample, all while maintaining a calm, friendly disposition.

There’s nothing, surprisingly, awkward about it. 

And that’s appreciated. Shocking, too, given who she is and who she was to Roman. 

It’s only when she’s wrapping up her portion that she clears her throat again. “I hope this doesn’t come across as an inappropriate question and feel free to tell me to mind my damn business, but can I ask why Roman isn’t here?”

Solana is tempted, almost ready to take Sasha up on her suggestion to tell her to mind her own damn business, but there’s something so genuine about her question. A sadness in her voice and sympathetic look in her eyes. It seems to come from a place of genuine concern. 

Solana finds herself answering honestly. “He doesn’t know yet.”

Sasha makes an ‘O’ with her mouth. “I’m sorry. I should have never asked. It’s just….with how much he must care about you—”

“What makes you say that?” Solana knows the words to be true. Knows that Roman cares about her. Loves her. But how and why the woman in front of her knows this is what makes her slightly suspicious.

Sasha sighs, answering almost nervously, “a man like Roman Reigns doesn’t just cut off his entire roster of women in exchange for one if she doesn’t mean something to him.” She shrugs, adding on, “and I mean, look at what he did to Sam’s uppity ass.”

If not for the confusion, Solana would maybe chuckled a bit. She’s not heard one good thing about Sam from a single person. Not one. “What do you mean?”

“Girl, you didn’t hear?” Sasha sucks her teeth, smiling a bit. “He had Nia whoop her ass. Well deserved, in my opinion.”

Solana gasps. “What?”

“Yup,” Sasha pops the ‘p.’ “Had her break that bitch jaw.”

Solana sits there stunned, briefly struggling to understand the reasons why only for it to come to her so easily.

The night of the fight. 

Sam’s cruel words to her in the bathroom. 

Solana told Roman. Roman said he’d handle it.

Clearly, that was how it was handled. 

“You be careful with that one though,” Sasha advises, expression shifting to something a bit serious. “She was always delusional believing Roman was gonna marry her ass. And a couple weeks ago, I saw her drunk in a bar lamenting about how much she hates you and can’t wait to—her words, not mine—give you exactly what you deserve.”

The words should bother her. Maybe even trigger a sense of concern. Solana recognizes that would be a normal reaction, especially given the world that they live in. However, concern and even fear are not the emotions that rise at Sasha’s information.

Anger.

Anger is the only thing she feels. 

Solana isn’t the same woman Sam cornered in the bathroom and talked down to.

She’s changed. Grown. Is better in so many ways and stronger in so many more.

So, Sam can try some shit if she wants to.

Solana is ready this time. 

“I’m not scared of her,” is all she says, hand falling protectively to her stomach. 

“I can see that,” Sasha says with a small smile, tapping on the screen a couple more times. “Well, I think that’s all I need from you. Dr. Sharmell will take over the rest.” She pauses. “Like I said, this is my last week here, so Alexa or Jakara will probably be your nurse moving forward, but I just wanna say congratulations. You seem like you’re gonna be a great mom.”

Eyes watering, Solana can only mumble a quiet, heartfelt, “thank you.” 

Sasha doesn’t say anything else before walking out the room, leaving Solana alone for not even five minutes before there’s a knock on the door followed by an entrance.

“Mrs. Reigns?” An African-American woman with smooth brown skin, a wrinkle free complexion and pearly whites. Her smile is amenable and her disposition warm. She walks over, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Dr. Sharmell. I’ll be your OB-GYN. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Solana can only reciprocate the smile and gesture, shaking the older woman’s hand. “Thank you. It’s—it’s nice to meet you too. You….you can call me Solana.”

She looks a bit taken back but nods. “Solana, it is.” Moving over to the screen, she double checks a couple things that Sasha had already asked. Asks a couple more questions, mostly regarding if there’s been any concerns regarding the pregnancy thus far. The answer is no.

Solana prays it stays that way.

“Okay, well, I see you had a pap smear at the beginning of the year, so I won’t do one of those again. The labs I ordered are standard procedure just to make sure your levels are good, and from what I can see based off your hCG levels, it does look like this is a multiples pregnancy.” Solana has no major reaction to this, as it was already hinted/told to her by Dr. Michaels. “But, let’s do an ultrasound and double check, okay?” She gives Solana a look that’s of a questioning nature, like she wants to make sure this is an okay trajectory.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she answers in a quiet voice.

However, it’s when Dr. Sharmell starts to move the machine around that Solana notices something that zaps the comfort and calmness she was experiencing up until his point. “Wait, is that—do we have to do a transvaginal ultrasound?”

Just saying it aloud makes her stomach twist in all of the wrong ways.

Dr. Sharmell nods. “Based upon the date of your last menstrual cycle, you should be right at 10 weeks, and internal ultrasounds are best practices for pregnant women still in their first trimester.” Solana’s discomfort must be written all over her face, prompting the older woman to ask, “are you okay?”

Sniffling, Solana wipes at her now tearing eyes. “I’m sorry, I just—” She takes a deep breath, reluctantly sharing, “I was raped as a child and…..I just….things down there…..”

And this is why Solana would give anything to have Roman here with her, because she knows his presence, holding his hand, having him here reassuring her that she’s safe would help her be able to tolerate the exam.

But, he’s not here, and the thought of being penetrated, even if for medical reasons, is something that has her heart racing and anxiety spiking. 

Dr. Sharmell is nothing but sympathetic as her face morphs into something almost solemn. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She shakes her head. “I can do a pelvic one instead. It may not show everything, but it’ll show enough for now. Okay?”

Solana can only nod and close her eyes as Dr.Sharmell shifts gears, handing her a sheet to cover up her lower half. Solana then proceeds to raise up the hospital gown to expose her belly. The gel is cool, a nice, chilling sensation to help settle her nerves. But, it’s when the doctor makes a sound that she opens her eyes and shifts her focus to the screen. 

“I was right.” She shoots Solana a small, comforting smile. “Twins.” Eyes continuing to water, Solana looks in awe as Dr. Sharmell points to the screen. “This is Baby A.” Her finger travels around as does the transducer roaming her belly. “And this is Baby B.” 

So early on in her pregnancy, it’s hard to make out anything significant like arms, legs, and a head, because none of those have developed just yet. However, none of that matters, because they’re still her babies.

Her children. 

Confirmation that they’re alive, growing, and healthy.

It makes the tears spill over, the emotionality of it all overwhelming her in a sense. 

He should be here.

Roman should be here, experiencing this with her. 

But he’s not.

And all she can seem to think about is how this is wrong. 

All so wrong. 

————

It’s not a good time to be doing this.

Not in the slightest. Roman knows this, has the wherewithal to see and know that he’s not in the best place to even try to be open to something he doesn’t even want to be doing in the first place.

But, he also knows that he needs to. That he needs to do this. Whether he wants to or not. 

It’s not about him.

It’s about her.

It’s about doing what’s best for their marriage, and truthfully, if she can find it in her to do it, then so can he.

Marriage…..

Roman’s fist forms at his side as he rolls his shoulders while trying to settle the anger growing again at Rikishi’s words he has no doubt came directly from the Elders.

There’s also lingering feelings towards Jey and Solo, toward their disrespectful, borderline challenging behavior. Unacceptable on all fronts, thus he regrets nothing except maybe not reminding them both why they answer to him and call him Tribal Chief.

However, that’s minimal compared to Rikishi and his actions both today and toward Solana.  

But, while a part of him wants to believe that the son of a bitch was just trying to fuck with him with his statement about the Elders, a result of his anger and pride at being attacked, the logical part of Roman knows that’s not the case.

He knows Rikishi isn’t lying about that much.

It makes sense. Roman sensed there was some shit they were planning before Fetu had passed. Sensed that they were up to something, and this is clearly it.

It’s not going to happen though.

It’s one thing for Roman to reconsider ending his marriage to Solana for her own safety. It’s another for those prehistoric fuckers to try to tell him he needs to end his marriage to her.

Over his dead fucking body will that ever happen.

Roman will kill them all before he lets them take her from him.

Murder is obviously the last resort. Maybe. But as of right now, he hasn’t got another plan. A less violent way to handle this, but he’ll figure it out. 

He always does.

Even though the solution is rather simple, something that is very much a possibility now that their marriage has been consummated. 

Many times.

Many….many times. 

And in full transparency…..Roman had started to wonder. Her sickness. The fatigue. The vomiting. 

Started to wonder if maybe, just maybe…..

And then he pushed it away. Has pushed it away, because stress would also explain all of that as well. But beyond that, he knows that if it was that, Solana would have said something. 

And, she hasn’t, thus it’s not even worth thinking about further. 

So, until then, he’ll come up with a plan.

But, not right now. 

Now he’s got a whole other issue he’s sort of—not really—ready to tackle.

Because Roman’s already paper thin patience is waning by the second every time he glances at the clock on his phone to see another minute pass. Three. She’s three minutes late. And for some people, that would be insignificant, but not for Roman. Because every minute of the day is precious for him, spoken and accounted for with tasks to be completed.

So every minute wasted waiting on her is deducted from the total time he has in a day to get everything done, thus, he’s already got one strike against this woman before ever even meeting her.

Thankfully, a text from Solana manages to briefly pull him from his growing frustration and temptation to just leave.

Solana: You’re not getting back until late, right?

Roman: Yes. 

Roman: Why? You alright?

Solana: Yes. It’s just Bayley and Naomi are “making” me go with them to dinner tonight, but I don’t want to not be there when you get home….

Roman: Solana, go. I’ll be fine. 

Because he will. Emotionally, he still feels…..not great, but he doesn’t feel as numb and overwhelmed as he’s been the past few days. Even beyond that, his wife has been by his side this entire time, putting her own life on hold to focus and cater to him. And he’s grateful. Immensely. But, she needs to also focus on herself.

His feelings about Bayley and Naomi are still…..not the best, but he knows what they mean to Solana, and she needs this.

So, he wants her to have it.

Solana: Are you sure?

Roman: Positive

“Well, shit.” 

Roman looks up from his phone, instantly irritated because why the fuck is someone talking to him when he’s trying to text his wife?

And he’s even more annoyed at the sight of the red headed woman wearing jeans, boots, and a white short sleeved shirt that shows off the tattooed sleeve on her right arm. Bag over shoulder, cup of coffee in one hand, and keys in the other, she scoffs. “Yeah…..Gail wasn’t kidding when she said she had a challenging referral for me.” 

But, it’s when she speaks again that his scowl drops. Roman asks, “you the therapist?”

She shrugs, answering, “that’s what my clinical license says.” Turning away from him, she prompts, “come on. Sorry I’m late. People don’t know how to fucking drive.”

There’s a lot to process in this moment. The lateness. The almost unprofessional attire. The profanity. 

What in the hell did Gail sign him up for?

Nevertheless, Roman follows this woman into the office once she unlocks and opens the door. And again, another culture shock. His wife’s therapist office is the traditional cool tones, plants hanging near the window, some mental health shit on the wall and whatnot. And this….person still has that, but there’s nothing neutral and traditional about her setup. The sofa is red, a kaleidoscope of colors plastered everywhere from the rug to the pillows to even the tye-dye curtains that are pulled back with a bright green tie. And it’s the framed poster on the wall above the computer that reads, “feelings are weird and uncomfortable and shit’ that makes him chuckle.

One thing he can give her is that it’s nice to not have that…..therapy shit shoved down his throat.

Not when he’s already extremely uncomfortable with this whole thing.

“Make yourself at therapy home,” she encourages, going to hang her bag on the hook behind the now closed door. Roman sits down, still on edge but feeling less annoyed. “Name’s Lita, by the way. Not sure if Gayle mentioned it.”

“She didn’t,” he answers, watching how she walks over and plops down in her chair, grabbing her coffee off the desk where she’d placed it while getting the room set up.

“Well, it is,” she shrugs. Taking a sip, she then informs, “I’ll call you Roman.”

Instantly, the irritation is reappearing. “Did I say you could call me by my first name?”

Lita gives him a look, asking in an even voice, “do you seriously expect me to call you My Tribal Chief?” She chuckles at her almost mocking tone, mumbling before snagging another sip. “That’s not happening.”

Roman finds himself asking, both rhetorically and literally, “what the hell kind of therapist are you?”

Because while his only experience with this profession has been through Solana, through Gail and even Stratus, the differences are stark. These women are day compared to Lita’s night.

“The kind who works with people. Not titles.” Reaching to place her coffee on the small table beside her, she explains. “The Tribal Chief is what you are. It’s not who you are. Who you are is Roman Reigns, and that’s who I’m interested in working with.” She gestures around her room. “In this space, you’re just a person, and something tells me that’s not a space you get to be in a lot in your life.”

He’s quiet. For a couple of reasons. The main one being that he’s having a bit of a hard time finding a point of disagreement. Her delivery is absurd, borderline disrespectful, but it’s not….it’s not entirely wrong. 

“So how’s this shit supposed to work?” He asks, allowing himself to lean back on the sofa, muscular arms crossed over one another.

Lita shrugs once more. “However you want it to work.” And before he can push back on her vague ass answer, she supplies, “my approach is I don’t make you do anything. I help you get to a point where you want to do things.”

“Like?” 

“Actually work on and process shit.”

“That’s probably not gonna happen.”

Lita chuckles, standing up and walking over to her desk. Roman watches her pull open a drawer where she grabs a notebook and pen. She then walks back over and reaches said items to him. “Here. Take these.”

Roman looks at her with disinterest but still accepts said items. “Alright, I want you to write down why you’re here right now. I’m not gonna see it, not gonna read it, not even gonna keep it. That’s for you. I just want you to be honest with yourself and preferably me, but we’ll get you there.”

Roman looks slightly confused but still understanding of what she’s asked of him. Lita grabs her coffee and falls back into the chair. “Get to writing.”

A scowl reappears. This demanding shit is gonna have to most definitely be addressed. 

Roman doesn’t get demanded.

Even though he most definitely finds himself writing shit down.

Control my anger/blackouts (around my wife—I don’t care about anyone else)

And that’s it.

“Done.”

Lita lifts a brow. “Seriously?”

“What?”

She scoffs, “you head the two biggest criminal organizations in the world and only need less than a minute to list things you want to work on?” She shakes her head, directing,“try again.”

Roman is irritated. This smart mouth of hers is getting old. “I don’t need—”

“I said try again,” Lita says in an almost softer voice. “Remember, be honest with yourself.”

There’s something both triggering and eye-opening about that latter statement. Honesty is something Roman has always valued, but when it’s directed toward and about himself, there seems to be difficulty. 

Solana….she’s helped a lot with that, and he’d probably feel less hesitant and more forthcoming if it was her he was talking to, but as great a support system his wife is for him, he knows he can’t put it all on her.

The same way, deep down, he knows he can’t continue to bottle shit up like he’s been doing.

Roman swallows before starting to list without thinking, refusing to allow his brain to interfere with what weighs his heart down when he strips back all the thick layers of protection.

Feeling guilty about Fetu’s death

Feeling guilty about my family’s murders

Feeling guilty about surviving

Feeling guilty about Solana’s attempt

Feelings towards my mom

Feelings about fatherhood someday

Not feeling good enough for Solana

Feeling like I have to be perfect to be loved

Being codependent with Solana

Matteo

Other shit

Roman can list it, but that’s it. Talking about or even thinking about what he wrote down is just….it’s too much right now.

“Done,” he mutters, taking it upon himself to fold up said paper that he stuffs in his pocket. 

“Good.” Lita nods. Standing up once more, she moves over to a bin near the bookshelf, pulling out a red, familiar box. “Now let’s play a game.”

“A game?” Roman is disgusted all over again when she walks over, holding the biggest box of fucking Uno he’s ever seen. “Do I look like a child?”

“Technically, there’s a child in all of us,” she counters. Roman watches her pull the massive stack of cards out of the box. “Now this is actually feelings Uno.”

“Feelings Uno?” It keeps getting worse. So much worse. “What the hell is that?”

Rolling her eyes while she expertly manages to shuffle through the giant cards, Lita explains, “Red is anger. Blue is sadness. Yellow is joy. And Green is a free for all, meaning you get to decide whatever emotion you want it to be on your turn. You play a card and then talk about whatever emotion goes with the card color.” The steps are clear and to the point, but Roman is still struggling with the fact that this woman seriously wants to play a whole ass game with him. “Considering it’s only our first session, I’ll take it easy on you. You only have to answer when you play a red card.”  She smirks, equally distributing cards to the both of them. “Something tells me anger won’t be too difficult for you to talk about.”

She’s not….not entirely wrong. 

Roman asks while looking over at his colorful cards. “You stack?” Playing a game is truly preferred than talking about….feelings and shit.

“You trying to talk about several different upsetting events at once?” She asks, laughing a little when he rolls his eyes. “No. No stacking. This time.” Leaning over, she plops the first card down for their pile. “And to show you I can sometimes be one of those overly nice therapists, I’ll go first.” Roman watches her lay down a matching red card, sharing so casually, “well, I felt angry as hell when I came home from school when I was thirteen and found out my abusive, piece of shit dad had not only offed himself but took my mom and little brother with him.” 

Silence. Almost everything about this woman in the less than twenty minutes that he’s known her has been unexpected, but that has to take the cake. The casualty in her voice is a stark contest to the weight of the confession. It has him partially stumped, cause what the fuck does one say to that?

He goes with the only thing he knows and can think to say in the moment. “Why the hell would you tell me that?”

There’s a bit of a shift in her countenance. Her voice softens as she explains, “it’s important you know when we’re working together and I say that I understand life can be a shitshow, I’m not talking about fucking Starbucks messing up my order.”

He doesn’t comment on her disclosure nor her follow up comment. He just lays down his own red card, sharing, “felt angry at my mom when she told me one time that my half brother was the son she wanted, not me.”

Lita makes a sound. “Parents are just wonderful, aren’t they?”

Roman says nothing, the two of them easily falling into this space of sharing and not really elaborating. Just putting it out there, building some strange form of rapport that feels almost natural to him.

And it’s through this process that Gail’s comment regarding this whole therapy thing returns to him. “I have someone in mind who will either be a perfect fit for you or the worst referral I’ve ever provided.”

And strangely enough, Roman is leaning toward the former of those two paths.

————

Solana has always felt deeply aligned with the saying, “if it ain’t one thing, it’s another.” Always felt that perfectly described many of her life experiences. It’s something that’s waned drastically since being married to Roman but has still popped up from time to time.

And sadly, this is one of those times.

Because now not only is she sitting on a letter given to her by Roman’s late aunt that she requested only be given to him when the time was “right,” a pregnancy that now her husband’s ex fuck buddy knows about before him, but now another letter addressed to Solana.

From her mother.

A letter Solana has never seen before today when she was trying to reorganize her library/art room after Roman canceled their lunch date, citing being unable to escape meetings.

She believes him, of course. It’s just that it would have been preferred to this.

Yet one more thing for her to work through.

In all actuality, it should be easy for Solana to just open the damn letter. Read it and get it over with. But the weight of it, the amount of pages she can feel through the envelope, and the fact that it’s in a separate letter instead of a journal, has her concerned.

Solana’s mom always wrote to her in journals, so the fact that this is not in a journal…..it has her worried.

Which is why it remains untouched, laid out on the bathroom counter with Fetu’s letter along with the sonogram photo she received just earlier today. Both pulled from their respective hiding spots in her art room/home library.

Solana is trying to figure all this out while doing her makeup for dinner. A nice, necessary distraction as she spends a little extra time covering up the bruise. The darkness and hyperpigmentation have gone down tremendously, which she’s immensely grateful for. Especially given the fact that Roman hasn’t commented on it in a while. She knows he sees it, can see the slight cringe he still does at the sight,  but his guilt seems to have dwindled moderately, which is deeply appreciated.

Even if it’s because he’s battling a different type of grief now. And it’s staring at the envelope from Fetu that Solana allows herself to really think about if the right time is now. It would be so easy to just give it to him, to not have to have that weight on her shoulders. And maybe she should have done it sooner, done it during his week of depression and dissociation.

But, she was just so worried that it could somehow make things worse. That it was too soon. 

And, it still feels too soon. Solana isn’t entirely sure what the right time is…..but, it doesn’t feel like now.

Maybe….maybe in another week or so. Besides, Fetu trusted her to give Roman the letter, so the older woman must have trusted her judgment��.right?

What is and has been the right time for some time now, however, is this pregnancy. Solana can’t keep hiding this from him. He deserves to know. He always deserved to know, and while her intentions were always good, that doesn’t negate the fact that she’s in the wrong.

She needs to tell him.

And, she will.

Tonight.

It still doesn’t sit right with her to spring this on him while he’s still trying to process such a massive loss. But, it’s even more not right to tell his doctor, to attend these appointments, to be ten weeks along, almost three months along and him still be in the dark.

It’s not fair.

He doesn’t deserve that.

And as if on cue, her phone dings with a text from the man of the hour himself.

Roman: I love you

Such simple words that put the biggest, deepest smile on her face. She is quick to respond with reciprocation.

Solana: I love you, too. ❤️

Solana: Everything alright?

She taps her nails against the phone screen, staring at the three dots as he types.

Roman: Yeah.

Roman: Just wanted to say it.

And a sigh of awe leaves her, imagining him saying as such instead of texting it. A softness in his voice and gaze reserved only for her. 

Solana: Well, I’ll never get tired of hearing it. ☺️

Solana: I’m getting ready to head out.

Roman: Okay. Text me when you get there.

Solana: Will do.

Feeling slightly better at having some sense of direction moving forward as well as an unexpected, sweet exchange with her husband, Solana sends a text to Bayley and Naomi to let them know she’s on her way. Eyes glued to the phone, she isn’t paying much or enough attention to the fact that two items slide off the counter and onto the floor as she grabs a single envelope.

Bautista serves as her guard again, not that she has any issue with that. Solo is fine, has been fine, for the most part, since his apology at the gala, but Bautista….there’s something different about him.

Despite his intimidating, frightening presence, there’s a warmth in the older man that vastly contrasts Solo’s coldness. Not to mention his sage words regarding just who she is and the power that title gives her has truly been groundbreaking. It’s something she plans to never forget.

The drive leans on the side of shorter rather than longer, Solana walking into the restaurant, being escorted to the back where Bayley and Naomi wait. As soon as their eyes are on her, they’re standing up, each pulling her in for hugs.

“We’ve been so worried about you,” Naomi whispers in her ear, followed by Bayley’s hug as she straight up asks, “Solana, what the hell has been going on?”

But, it’s only after the waitress comes, takes their orders, and she texts Roman that she’s arrived that the words start to spill out. 

A heavy sigh leaves the mouth of the Tribal Chief’s wife as she sits down in the chair, placing her purse in the other empty chair. A quick glance to the left reveals Bautista sitting at a nearby table. Not too close but close enough where he could act if something were to go down.

“I know….I know I’ve been distant.” Distant seems like not a strong enough word, but it’s the best she’s got in this moment. “And, I’m sorry that I’ve been worrying ya’ll. That wasn’t my intention. There’s just been a lot going on.”

“Like what?” Naomi presses. “Solana, we don’t want to overstep, but the last time we’ve seen you was at training where you had a black eye. That was over two weeks ago with intermittent contact since. You’ve gotta give us something here.”

And Solana knows this. Knows that both of the women sitting across from her only mean well. From day one, they’ve been nothing but kind and supportive. Have only sought to help her as she reclaimed her voice and her life.

She owes them that much.

“I’m gonna tell you guys something, but you can’t say anything to anyone. Not a soul.” She focuses on Naomi. “Not even Jimmy.”

Bayley nods immediately. “Of course.” 

Naomi seems a bit reluctant. “I don’t like keeping things from my husband,” she admits. And Solana can’t and won’t fault her for that. “But, I can see this is important to you, so you have my word. I won’t say a thing.”

And Solana trusts it.

Trusts them.

Closing her eyes, she starts to answer, “Roman had…..he had a nightmare the night of his fight with Drew. Drew said something to him, and it messed with his head. I won’t say what. It’s not my place.” Because it isn’t. Nor is it relevant to the conversation at hand. “It was a bad nightmare, and I was trying to wake him up and when I finally did, he woke up swinging and accidentally hit me. He had no idea what he was doing, and he felt awful afterwards. He even…..he even compared himself to my dad and brother.”

The shocked expressions on their faces match the disgust Solana feels at Roman even being in the same sentence as those two men, let alone the same category.

“So yes, he did technically hit me, but it wasn’t intentional.” Solana finds herself adding, “and that’s why I got so upset, because for all that Roman is and can be, I was frustrated that you guys believed he could ever do something like that to me.”

“You’re right,” Bayley sighs, shaking her head. “I think we just saw the black eye and assumed it was because of what happened with Drew…..” She stops herself, correcting. “It was wrong though, and I’m sorry.”

“We both are,” Naomi agrees. “But, not for worrying about you.”

“Never that,” Bayley chuckles, lifting up her phone with a small smirk. “You’ve had the newbies hitting us up nonstop wondering if we’ve heard from you.”

“Girl, got us all in a group chat and everything called SOSlana.” Naomi proves this by pulling up her phone and sharing her screen where Solana can sure enough see the name of the group chat.

It makes her laugh. A much needed thing. “I know I need to catch up with them too, but ya’ll deserved to speak with me first.” Cause as amazing as Melina, Cam, and Mickie have been, Bayley and Naomi were there first.

The loyalty goes a lot deeper.

“Maybe we can reschedule the girls trip for all of us. Like in two weeks?” Bayley suggests. A glance at Naomi provides a nod of agreement. “Solana?”

Hesitation. On one hand, she’d like to say yes, but on the other, she just doesn’t know. Because something tells her when she tells Roman about the pregnancy tonight, he’s about to be a hell of a lot stricter regarding her outings. And she understands it fully. Understands why her being the pregnant wife of the Tribal Chief means a different layer of protectiveness.

“Let me run it by Roman first,” she finally answers. “He’s….he’s going through something right now, and I need to be there for him.” Not a lie. The absolute truth. 

“Yeah, Jimmy’s been acting kind of off too. I think something’s going on with the Bloodline.” She shakes her head and transitions into elaboration. “Just earlier today, I overheard him arguing with his brothers and dad.”

“Which brothers?” Bayley beats Solana to the punch by asking a very valid question.

“Jey and Solo,” Naomi answers. Solana does her best to maintain a neutral expression, but it’s hard. There’s something almost unsettling about that, though she can’t put her finger on the why. “It didn’t go well. They all ended up basically marching out the house, slamming my doors and everything.”

Curious, Solana can’t stop herself from asking, “did Jimmy tell you what the argument was about?”

A pause. A noticeable pause. “Not really. I’m sure they’ll get it together though.” As Naomi takes a sip of her champagne, Solana does her best not to look or think too deeply about the obvious deflection.

To be fair, Solana is firm about her boundaries regarding certain things discussed between herself and her husband. 

Why can’t Naomi get the same grace? 

Solana is grateful for the arrival of the food, appreciative of the diversion of topics, because Naomi is certainly right. Something is most definitely going on with the Bloodline. A major loss that’s mostly impacted Roman but Jimmy and Jey as well, most likely.

But, Solana can’t and won’t comment on that.

Providing her girls with some insight regarding a bit of what’s been going on is a nice distraction for Solana. Laughter is always good for the soul, and being around her sisters never ceases to bring about a healthy amount of that.

The merriment makes it hard for her to not imagine what their reaction will be to finding out she’s pregnant. The way they’ll absolutely gloat and squeal, especially when they learn that she’s having twins. The baby shower that they’ll plan is destined to be one for the ages. 

And she looks forward to it all. 

But first….. first she must talk to her husband. 

It’s about an hour into dinner when Solana feels her bladder screaming at her to be emptied. “I’ll be right back,” she excuses herself, taking her purse with her for good measure. Mouthing bathroom to Bautista, Solana makes her way to the back, pleased to see that the stalls are all empty. 

There’s such a weird relief at no longer having that pressured feeling, expelling her bladder like she didn’t use the bathroom shortly before leaving the house. 

Frequent urination.

It’s one of the symptoms Dr. Sharmell mentioned she might start seeing soon at this point in her pregnancy.

She wasn’t wrong. 

Flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink, Solana attempts to toss her purse on the counter only for it to go tumbling to the floor, some of the contents falling out. Cursing quietly, she washes her hands first before bending down to stuff the items back in her bag, grateful her phone wasn’t one of the tumbled objects. However, it’s something else that manages to capture her full attention. 

The envelope with her name written on the outside.

Slow hands reach for it, trembling fingers tracing over her name so beautifully signed, her mother’s penmanship something worthy of all the jealousy. But, jealousy isn’t what Solana is feeling in this moment. 

Curiosity is.

A growing feeling gnawing at her that whatever is contained within this envelope needs to be unveiled and read. Needs to be freed after so many years of confinement. And, it makes no sense how Solana went from avoiding doing such a thing to readying to do it in the public restroom at a restaurant.

She knows it’s not the best decision, that it’s bound to make her emotional, make her cry. 

And yet…..the right timing.

Roman is grieving and about to find out that he’s a father. There’s so many layered, complex emotions in that alone that she’s truly lost as to how he’s supposed to manage that and helping her sort through whatever emotions will follow the reading of this letter. It also seems unfair to put that on him when he’s dealing with so much.

But Bayley and Naomi…..they could. They could be her sources of support. They’ve been wanting to be said sources, and maybe, just maybe, it’s time to take them up on that offer.

Solana releases a deep, shaky breath while rising to her feet, taking her purse off the floor with her. Walking over to the door, she turns the lock and moves back over to the counter. Leaning back against the counter, Solana takes one more efficient breath before still trembling fingers carefully pry open the letter. Solana unfolds several sheets of paper.

And she begins to read. 

My Dearest Solana,

If you are reading this letter, then I am no longer living. I wish with everything in me that is not the case, and everything will go according to plan, so that what I am about to write will be told to you from my lips instead of read from this letter.

But, I cannot be naive. I must be realistic and prepare for all outcomes.

Solana, what I am about to tell you is going to be difficult, and you may never forgive me, may even hate me, but please know I never ever intended to hurt you, my sweet girl.

I was 23 years old when I met “Xavier Miller”. He claimed to be in Mexico on sabbatical from work. Said he was a “businessman.” I believed him. I believed everything he told me. All the false hopes he put in my head about bringing me to America and helping me get into medical school so I could become a doctor. Believed him when he said once we got settled, he’d pay for my parents to get passports so that they could visit. I believed it all. He was charming and handsome and kind, and I wanted so deeply to be in love that I fell for it all. 

After three months of us knowing each other, he proposed. I said yes. My parents did not agree. They believed we were rushing things. They were right, but I was too naive. I listened to my heart and only my heart. I fell in love with this man who promised me the world, promised to always love and take care of me. 

I spoke very little English, but he promised to help me learn once we moved to the States. He was adamant about me coming to America with him, said it would open up more doors, specifically helping me achieve my dream of being a doctor. 

And, I was determined, so I married him and came to America.

The decision will forever haunt me.

Our first night as “husband” and “wife” was the first time he raped and beat me. I woke up the next morning bruised and bloody. It was only then I saw the real him for the first time. He told me I would never see my family again, and if I ever tried to contact them or leave him, he would kill me. That same morning is when he informed me of who he really was.

A mafia man.

And right then and there, I knew my life was over.

I will not further traumatize you with details. But, it was...horrific. 

I thought once I gave him a son, which is what he eventually told me he what wanted from the very beginning—a “stupid woman” he could “control” and “breed”--- that he would lessen his cruelty. And, he did, to some extent. 

He allowed me to start volunteering at the hospital, which was truly only because he wanted me away from Wes. He said I would make him “soft.” The same hurtful thing he says about you. 

But, this ended up changing my life, because it was through volunteering that I met someone. His name was Darnell, and he was a medical student doing clinical rotations. Again, I do not wish to sully you with the details, so I will just say it.

I started an affair with Darnell, and I regret nothing, Solana. He was the first man I ever really loved who showed me what it meant to truly be loved by a man. It was dangerous for both of us, and I tried to break it off, tried to tell him what could happen if we were ever caught, but he didn’t care. He wanted to help me find a way out, because he loved me, and I loved him.

But then everything changed when I found out I was pregnant. Initially, I was distraught. Xavier was still raping me, trying to get me pregnant, and the thought of having his child again sickened me.

But, when I went to my appointment and learned how far along I was, I realized that the time I conceived was when Xavier was away on a business trip.

He wasn’t the father.

Darnell was.

And, I was so happy, so overjoyed, my love. You have no idea. 

Throughout the pregnancy, Darnell and I tried to come up with plans. Tried to figure out a way we could escape. Me, Him, Wes, and our babies.

I was pregnant with twins.

But, the closer the time came, the more fearful I became that even if we somehow escaped, Xavier would find us and kill us all. He always threatened to kill me if I tried to take Wes from him. 

So the plan changed to one that broke my heart and Darnell’s, but we agreed it was the safest thing for us to do. We were able to have some of the hospital staff assist us with this plan, which made a world of difference.

It truly did.

When I gave birth to you, I gave birth to your twin brother as well. A brother who Darnell took, while I kept you. And, I told Xavier, who did not come to the hospital until the next day, that my boy didn’t make it. 

He was livid. So angry that he forced the hospital to give me a hysterectomy.

He said I would not “fail” him again.

The plan was for me to wait until you were older, at least one, and then we would try to make the move, but what I didn’t expect was for Xavier’s cruelty towards me to increase. He became significantly worse to the point where it was impossible for me to do anything without him knowing. He refused to allow me to volunteer at the hospital, which cut me off from all the people who were going to help me reunite with Darnell and my other child.

And instead made my life even more of a living hell, but now he was subjecting you to the same treatment.

He always blamed you for the “death” of your brother. That’s why he’s always hated and resented you. Because you “lived” and the boy “did not.” He never wanted daughters. Only sons. 

Solana, I know this is a lot. I know that I am putting so much on you, and I am so sorry, my love. There is just so much you need and deserve to know, and I just have to make sure you know one way or another.

It was selfish of me to keep you. I should have let Darnell take the both of you, but I always wanted a daughter. Wanted to have a piece of him with me as well. But, my selfishness subjected you to all kinds of horror, and I’m so so sorry, mija. 

But, Darnell is your father. And, you have a twin brother. And if all goes to plan tomorrow, you, me, Wes, your real father and your other brother will finally be able to be a family. You’ll have the family you always deserved but I deprived you from.

And words cannot express how sorry I am, my sweet Sol. Because the fact of the matter is that I was being selfish. It was selfish and wrong of me to not let you go with your father, to keep you in an abusive household with an abusive man.

It was wrong, and I am sorry.

But…

In the event something goes wrong, I just needed you to know the truth. Because if something happens to me, I need to make sure you at least know where you really come from.

And that’s not Nina Miller and Xavier Miller. 

It’s Darnell Adams and Alma Escobar.

My name is not Nina.

It’s Alma.

Alma Escobar. 

Xavier made me change my identity when I came here to avoid my family finding me. And, it worked, because Xavier also lied about his name when we first met. He made it up. It was all a part of his plan to get me in America and make me his slave. 

It’s why my family was probably never able to find me. They were looking up one name that never existed and another name that would never exist again.

But, that brings me to my next part. 

My mother’s name is Paloma Escobar, and my father’s name is Ricardo Escobar. I have two uncles: Bernardo and Tomas.

If I have the chance and this plan works, I will finally take you and your brothers to Isla Mujeres to meet your family. You deserve that much and so much more. 

Again, this is so so much to drop on you, mija, but I don’t have much time. 

Solana, that is why I have always called you “my Sol.” Because phonetically, Sol sounds like “soul,” which is what my real name really means. YOU are my soul and an extension of myself, just infinitely better.

Never forget, my amazing girl, that you are smart and beautiful and kind and have such a pure soul. You must never forget any of that.

And one day, you are going to grow into a beautiful young woman, find a kind young man who loves and treats you the way you deserve, and you will be an amazing mother. 

And that, my love, will be your happy ending.

I pray to God that I will live to see all of this, be around for all of it, but if I am not, know that I loved you infinitely in this life and will continue to love you infinitely in the next.

Forever your Hummingbird,

Alma 

Breathing.

A simple, easy thing that’s suddenly impossible for Solana. She can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t compute any of what she’s just read. Only one sentence of so many shell-shocking revelations circulates in her head, thudding against her consciousness.

Xavier wasn’t her father.

He wasn’t her father. 

There’s so many things embedded and included in this confession of sorts, but that’s the one thing Solana can’t seem to pull away from.

The man who was responsible for the murder of her mother and her attempted murder was not her real father.

The man who was responsible for her rape was not her real father.

The man who almost beat her to death and threatened to finish the job was not her real father. 

The man who she so desperately wanted to love her like fathers should love daughters but never could. And not just because he was incapable of love. No. It was because he wasn’t her real father.

Solana almost stumbles to the ground, one hand going behind her to hold onto the counter to keep her upright.

This….this was a mistake.

She should have never read this letter.  

Ever.

Feeling on the verge of a panic attack, she releases the papers and places a hand over her chest, closing her eyes, and working to regulate herself. She manages to pull from the coping skills learned in therapy as she tries to find some anchor of sorts to keep her grounded instead of drowning in the panic that threatens to overtake her.

Too much.

It’s just too much to process.

Too much to sit on. 

She just can’t.

Solana is sniffling, silent tears running down her face as she places her other free hand on her belly. She can’t fall apart. Not right now. Not like this. And not with the babies growing in her belly. 

They need her to pull it together. To be strong. 

Needing a reminder of sorts, she digs through her purse with wobbly hands for the photo that depicts the two tiny lives growing inside of her. 

There’s only one problem. 

The sonogram photo isn’t in her purse.

Solana’s glossy eyes scan the floor to see if she somehow missed it, only for that to come back a deadend given the emptiness of the pristine tile. 

Solana frantically digs through her purse once more realizing the photo isn’t the only thing missing.

So is Fetu’s letter.

And now yet another massive weight is dropped onto her chest with the terrifying realization of what she’s done.

“Oh no….” Trembling hands fold back up the sheets and stuff them back into the envelope that she shoves in her bag. Solana’s legs can’t move fast enough as she unlocks and rips the door open, making her way over to that table where Bayley and Naomi are laughing. 

It’s when their gaze lands on her, however, that the laughter dies down. “Solana, what’s—”

“I have to go,” she interrupts, unable and partially uninterested in offering the truth as to why. Because she can’t. She can barely fucking think straight right now, let alone try to explain the magnitude of what just happened.

What could happen if she doesn’t get home. 

Fast.

Bayley is the one to push. “Wait, Solana, you can’t just—”

“Please,” she begs, eyes watering. “It’s….it’s Roman. I have to get home.” Not a lie, just an answer that probably insinuates a severity that does not equate to the actuality of the situation. Or, maybe it does. “I’ll….I’ll explain later, but I have to go now.” 

Naomi and Bayley share a look, clearly not liking this sudden shift in energy, and Solana can’t blame them. However, she can’t focus on that right now. Not when her world has just been turned upside down.

“Okay,” Naomi concedes with a sigh, “but at least text us when you get home.”

“I will.” That much Solana can promise. Hopefully. “Thank you.” Both women only answer with a nod as Solana gestures to Bautista. “Come on.”

Wordlessly, he gets up and leads her out of the restaurant. 

Solana is a nervous wreck the entire drive home. Knee bouncing, heart racing, intermittent tears. This is not how she expected this day to go. It’s almost too unbelievable to be true.

There’s too many things for her to sit on and sift through. Her pregnancy. Fetu dying. Her mother’s letter. Now this?

Solana wipes at her eyes. It’s just all too much. And the fact that trying to call Roman only led to the phone ringing two times before going straight to voicemail only makes things infinitely worse.

Roman has never sent her to voicemail before. 

The drive to the mansion is really only a matter of fifteen minutes, but it feels so much longer. Torturously longer.

The SUV is barely in park before she’s whipping the door open and running towards the house, heels in one hand because she can’t have any sort of interference. 

“Roman!” She calls out his name the minute she steps foot inside of their home only to be met with silence.

And for that brief second, there’s relief. A respite from all the heaviness as she rushes up the stairs, ready to grab the letter and photo off the bathroom counter to hide them again before he gets home.

Before he finds out the two major secrets she’s been sitting on without her being able to tell him herself.

But, that’s a short lived fantasy, one that’s killed the moment she’s standing in the doorway of their master bedroom.

“No….”

Solana drops her shoes at the sight of her husband sitting on the side of their bed, facing the door, papers in hand, a now opened envelope beside him along with a photo.

The sonogram.

Her heart breaks.

“Roman, I—”

“Solana.” 

Never.

 Never has she heard her name leave his mouth with such anger and disgust. The same anger and disgust that’s written all over his handsome face as he asks, point, blank, period, “what the hell is going on?”

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Tension Logs (Steve Rogers, Tony Stark)

gif sen to me by @krirebr back in october, just now going through my inbox full of gifs, sorry my love <3

Summary: overhearing an argument from Steve & Tony, you grow worried and with awe at the pure strength Steve possesses.

Warnings: none?

WC: 1K

A/N: there's no pairing in this and i honestly debated on posting this as is, or rewrite it a million more times lol.

Read On Ao3!

--

The farm was a welcome sight after everything that had happened. After the chaos, the battles, and the tension of saving the world yet again, Clint Barton’s peaceful farmhouse felt like a sanctuary—a place to breathe and maybe, for once, pretend things were normal.

You sat on the porch, your legs curled beneath you, watching the others as they scattered around the property. Natasha was keeping an eye on the kids while Clint and Thor discussed something about farming techniques—likely for a laugh, given Thor's complete lack of experience with Earth crops. Bruce was in the barn, tinkering with gadgets, and Vision was seated nearby, reading.

But your attention was drawn to the tension rising between two men who seemed to clash constantly: Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.

You could hear them before you saw them—loud, angry voices. Steve, usually so calm, was pacing, hands running through his short blonde hair in frustration. Tony was standing a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression tight with annoyance. The words were muffled from the porch, but the intensity between them was unmistakable.

"He's just not listening," Tony grumbled, rubbing his temple. “I’m trying to save everyone, Steve! But you keep acting like I’m the enemy here.”

Steve’s jaw was tight as he shook his head. “You think I don’t want to protect people? You’re not seeing the bigger picture here, Tony. If we keep going down this road, we’ll have no choice but to fight against ourselves.”

“Yeah, and how long until we’re fighting for our lives, huh?” Tony shot back, clearly exasperated. "You’re just blind to the fact that the rest of the world isn’t always going to play nice.”

You could feel the tension rising from where you sat. The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, battles with no real winners, and personal grievances that were still being worked out. But watching Tony and Steve argue like this... it was different. The anger was raw, not just from the situation, but from something deeper, something that neither of them was willing to admit.

You sighed, turning your gaze back to them, uncertain whether you should intervene. But before you could make a move, something unexpected happened.

Steve had stopped pacing, his face flushed with frustration, and Tony was busy running his hands through his hair, his back turned. That’s when Steve walked over to a large, thick log lying near the edge of the property, one that looked almost too heavy to move. Without saying a word, Steve dropped to one knee, grabbed hold of the log, and—without any visible hesitation—ripped it in half with his bare hands.

You blinked, certain you had imagined it, but when you saw Steve’s arms straining, his muscles tensing with the force of the action, you realized it was real. He wasn’t using any tools or anything to help him. No tech. No super-soldier serum enhancement. Just pure, raw strength. The snap of the log cracking in half was deafening in the stillness of the farm, and for a moment, you were sure even Tony had frozen in place.

For a long second, there was only the sound of Steve breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he stood over the splintered wood, his eyes unwavering. His gaze locked with Tony’s, and the tension between them suddenly felt different—more grounded, more purposeful.

Tony’s jaw dropped, his usual sarcastic wit faltering for a moment. “Jesus, Cap. You trying to kill me or just make me feel inadequate?”

Steve didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he straightened up, wiping his hands on his pants as though the task had been as simple as pulling a thread from his sleeve. His face was set, but there was a softness behind his eyes, something you recognized as tiredness—not from age, but from the weight of the responsibility that he carried.

“You can’t fix everything, Tony,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, though it still held that unshakeable determination. “But you can try to do the right thing. I need you to understand that.”

Tony didn’t say anything at first, still staring at the broken log, clearly in shock at what he had just witnessed. Slowly, his expression softened, and he nodded, though you could see the struggle in his eyes.

“I know,” Tony replied after a moment, his voice rough. “I just… I don’t know how to stop screwing up.”

The vulnerability in his voice was something you rarely heard from Tony Stark, and it made your heart ache for him. But then, to your surprise, Steve stepped closer, clapping Tony lightly on the shoulder.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Tony,” Steve said, the warmth in his voice unmistakable now. “None of us do. Just don’t give up on trying.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly, watching the interaction unfold. In that moment, you realized just how strong Steve Rogers truly was—not just in his physical strength, but in his unwavering belief in people, in their ability to change, to do better.

You knew that strength now extended beyond just his shield. It was in his words, in the way he carried the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, and in how, no matter how many times Tony fell short of his own expectations, Steve would always be there to pull him up again.

You stood up quietly, unsure if they even realized you were there. The argument had defused, and now, Tony and Steve were standing side by side, silently processing everything that had just happened. The tension between them was still there, but you could see the cracks beginning to heal, just a little.

With a quiet breath, you stepped back inside the house, letting the door swing closed behind you. There was still a lot of work to be done before the world would feel right again, but for now, you felt a flicker of hope. Steve Rogers, in all his strength, had proven once again that the world wasn’t just saved by punches or tech. It was saved by the quiet power of believing in each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the kind of strength that would carry them all through the rest of the storm.

[baura-bear]

Crying but idk why

[peachesofteal]

Light On Simon Riley/female reader (mama) & Emmaline Valentine's Day special This was heavily requested when I was still writing for these three. Light On is finished, but holidays make me sentimental. Consider this a little treat for Valentine's Day

The aquarium is a zoo.

Once, the throngs of people, masses of children and parents swirling around and screaming, running and jumping all over the place would make him uneasy, unsettle him, drive him back to his apartment, to the dark.

Once.

Now, he navigates it well. Confidently. He's here with his family, his girls. He even enjoys it, taking in all the tanks, the fish, the stingrays, the sharks, and he's proud, when Emma manages to screech out the word fish here and there, giving her positive encouragement, sliding the cloth mask down to place a quick kiss to the top of her head.

He grounds himself with one hand on the small of your back, the other pushing an empty stroller. Having you close, within arm's reach, numbs the anxiety constantly buzzing in the back of his mind, and he tucks you into his side every time you'll let him. Emmaline occasionally peers at him over your shoulder, or when he's not immediately in her line of sight, whips her head back and forth, trying to figure out where he's gone.

"'m right here." He soothes, rubbing her back. "Right here, baby girl." You roll your eyes, smile sweet for him, for her, and lean forward, smacking a big kiss on her cheek before pointing at the curved glass of the tank.

"Look, Emma!" A group of jellyfish drift weightlessly in the middle of the room, and he urges the two of you forward so she can see, unbothered by the five and six year olds that jostle one another around his legs. She shrieks with glee, giggling like mad when she smacks her hand against the glass as hard as she can, earning her an immediate, soft redirection from you.

"Gentle, baby. Gentle." Her little brow furrows, frustrated, and she bobbles in your arms, turning again to find him. He's about to reach for her, give your back a break, when she starts to babble, high pitched sounds gurgling into a jumble of words and-

"Dada." Your eyes go round. "Dadadada..."

Simon's heart breaks open inside his chest, torrent of emotion crashing over him, washing him away in the wake. A palm claps over your mouth, dropped open in shock, and he sees joy in your eyes, joy and pain, the presence of a ghost still haunting your happiness, like one haunts his.

"Here, uh." you lift her into his arms, and he stares down at her sweet, cherub face, cheeks swelling with an almost toothless smile, tiny fingers stretching for his mask.

"Dada!" He doesn't answer, his silence frustrating, and she grows more demanding, happy pitch changing into a growl of dissatisfaction. "Dada, dada!"

"Shhhh, hey. It's okay." He bounces, cuddling her close. "I'm here." You stand back, expression heavy with grief, light with happiness, and he locks eyes with you.

He doesn't need to speak, to ask.

Are you okay? Are you okay with this?

Your hands clasp together, and you nod.

After a beat, he clears his throat. "How did she..."

"I might have been calling you dada, at home, when I refer to you, you know?" You're wearing the mask of a million emotions, embarrassment and shame, sadness, and elation. They all mix together to bring more tears to your eyes, and you laugh uneasily as you wipe them. "I... I'm sorry. I don't know how to feel, about her saying it, and I didn't ask you, either. It's... it's, I,-"

"I know, sweetheart. I know. It's okay." He steps close, Emmaline chewing on the edge of his mask, burrowed in his chest. His forehead taps yours, and he closes his eyes. He doesn't know how to thank you, for this gift, this love, this life you've given him, so all he can say is the three words he says all the time, the three words he whispers into your skin at night, the three words he gives Emma when he tucks her into bed. "I love you." Your fingers hold tight to his, watery smile lighting up the entire room.

"We love you too."

[simplyreveries]

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'"

riddle rosehearts

riddle feels such a strange feeling in his chest, he hates it. he feels nervous as you make his chest squeeze and filled with pressure every time, you're near— it washes away as soon as you turn and talk to him. he feels frustrated because he finds himself unable to focus, unable to think clearly when all he sees you. you make him feel such a sense of comfort, he feels like he can fully let his guard down and tell you everything about him if you asked and it scares him. he has looked into how he is feeling, tried asking trey bashfully or read books, things online how he could possibly cope with this sickness.

more often than not he’s drawn to observing and noticing everything about you, your little quirks, expressions, comments, when your right in front of him now, laughing and talking freely amongst your friends around him happily helping out and cleaning up a little. he doesn't seem to be near nor saying a word but only mesmerized as he watches from a distance, he feels so much in a daze of this realization that he doesn't snap out when you walk over to him, he looks at you with a distressed look.

"... have you ever been in love?"

leona kingscholar

despite leona’s intelligence and knowing just exactly what he is feeling about you, he is stubborn at heart. he absolutely hates what you're doing to him, he can't even sleep and take a nap in peace without you invading his thoughts. it looks like he’s angry at you or frustrated, really but it's just him unable to handle the emotions you make him experience. he is infuriated with how he succumbs to the jealously that you make him feel when you're with others, that he feels need to want that attention back on him. still, you talk and find him, usually talking his ear off about something random and some event that occurred to you today.

he has his eyes closed but still listens to you. sometimes you’ll join a game of chess with him, to which he usually takes the pride in winning. he never really questioned as to why you're so persistent on befriending or even just being around him, perhaps you warmed up to him when he cracked and gave into letting you and grim stay at his dorm when yours was practically taken over. his demeanor around you is small, but noticeable. sometimes you'd tease and laugh, you tell him "you must love me" his eyes are kept on you with his eyebrows raised, but he wouldn't say anything to deny.

"do you really wanna make me say it?"

azul ashengrotto

azul finds his demeanor collapsing around you, when he tries to play his cool-headed, business oriented, cleverly scheming person with a smug grin that turns into a stupid smile because he finds himself too nervous around you and so happy being close to you. any attempt he makes to be "suave" around you, it only shows what a hopeless man he is. he feels like he has to look like he absolutely is perfect in front of you, how else would you fall for him? nevertheless, you always seem to be able to see right through him and he hates that. he doesn't want to feel vulnerable, its icky to him.

he watches you after hours in the mostro lounge as you hum and finish closing and cleaning up with him and some others, however now it only seems to be you and azul. he knows he shouldn’t be staring but he tells himself just a few moments more, he always found you under the lighting to be mesmerizing. he hears you telling him about something silly that happened while you were serving, he hears you but can't focus as his mind is running with a million thoughts, if you ask him what it is, he clears his throat and carefully adjusts his glasses, replying slowly.

“i just... love you”

kalim al-asim

his feelings hit so hard, as soon as he got them, he loved it and wanted more of the adrenaline and high of being completely enamored with someone. he loved all the little things that happens throughout the day that makes him so giddy and happy he thinks about it as he tries to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come to see you. kalim feels like he is literally your other half, always wanting to be right beside you.

he finds himself daydreaming quite often, of what it'd be like to be yours, even the thought of you giving him a kiss on the cheek has him flushed. of course, you’d find himself at his celebrations and parades he holds at his dorm. he'd always try to get you to dance, grabbing your hands and jumping up and down with you laughing at least. kalim feels like he can say anything to you and thats exactly what he does. he grabs your hands and bring it up to his face near his lips.

"i love you!"

vil schoenheit

he had his apprehensions; you were more so just someone he knew and eventually because dormmates during his stay with the others at ramshackle. vil had always seemed so drawn to you, if you notice him staring and give a nervous, confused look he'll smoothly adjust something on you. it looks like he can see right through you at times, it didn't take long for him to believe what a genuinely good soul you are in this school. when you and the others were dealing with the events that unfolded when dealing with idia and STYX, when vil had hugged you and pressed a kiss to your forehead he realized just how fully he was deep in this. he pulled away and stared at you for a moment with his hands gripped on your arms that took a longer to fully pull away.

you've sparked such an interest in him, he practically found himself becoming infatuated over time. you'll find yourself within his dorm as he carefully applies makeup to your face-- he adores doing but he can't help but feel amused with a smile creeping to his face when he feels how strangely intimate it feels between you too with him so close. he looks at you with the dreamiest daze, he'll pinch your cheek lightly before moving to grab something else.

"i cant believe i've fallen for you"

idia shroud

he stares and fidgets on his phone nervously, biting his already scarred lip-- he is staring at your contact. he wants to get it off his chest, he wants to get it out of the way if you're reciprocating and feel the same way to someone like him. ortho practically bugs him all the time to, confident and laughs even when he brings up the idea- ortho knows you and thinks idia will be successful and pleasantly surprised with your answer. idia hates that he can't help the way he feels around you, he feels a sense of relief and comfort when you're near- like he doesn't need to be absolutely on edge.

yet as soon as he felt that sensation around you, he eventually turned into his fear because of his infatuation he has around you only grew. he feels his mouth goes dry and struggles to finds something to say when he's looking right at you. you'll still see his moments where he's rambling about something he built or a media he is enjoying but he grows back more into his shell of anxiety when he realizes how much he feels. he considers you perfect and honestly, far out of his league. there was no one someone like you would possibly fall for someone like him. still, idia has found himself to be a pathetic mess when it comes to you and quickly presses send.

"I think i love you"

malleus draconia

surprisingly, out of all of them - i feel like its him that falls for you the quickest. he found himself to be so smitten with you as soon as he accidentally stumbled upon you when it was unbeknownst to him that you were living in the ramshackle dorm now. he admires you, you've shown anything but fear around him and made him feel seen. he truly believes its fate that you somehow found yourself all the way to twisted wonderland and you two had met each other, he tends to find his mind drifting and thinking about that a lot. despite you possessing no magic, he still sometimes will tell you even before confessing that you must hold something. malleus won't give you an exact answer as to why he thinks that yet– being playful and mysterious as he quietly laughs to himself. you stumbled into this unknown world and made him this infatuated. he can't take his eyes off of you during the nights you find yourself talking to him, he watches you look at the nature, as he often shares you the beauty of it in the late hours.

"you've bewitched me, havent you?"

[lowkeyren]

FOR HIS HEART CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

in which — dan feng can’t imagine a life without you. so even when death takes your hand, he'll hold on to your other and do anything to get you back in his embrace, no matter the consequences.

pairing — dan f/heng x gn!reader

wc: 2.5k, lovers to enemies, you both are lowkey bad with feelings LOL, i lied when i said there's an alternative ending for hurt/comfort enjoyers, now suffer. (reblogs w comments are appreciated, pls enjoy <3) ps. dividers aren't working cus tumblr is being mean to me so using dashes instead ARRHGHGHG

—

lying in your shared bed, your breathing grows increasingly shallow, your hands tremble uncontrollably, signaling another episode of your deteriorating condition. the dim, cold room feels oppressive as you catch the distant echoes of the best physicians from all around xianzhou, their hurried steps reverberating against the walls as they hasten to your side.

dan feng tightens his grip on your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his expression etched with concern. the smell of herbal remedies and the sharp scent of sickness fills the air, mingling with the mustiness of the stone walls; a familiar sense of dread washes over you as you struggle with each breath.

his brows are furrowed, and his lips are pressed into a thin line, his knuckles turning white from the tightness of his grip on your hands. the pressure is so intense that it almost hurts —almost, but not quite enough to cause you (more) pain. he would never hurt you, not even over his own grave.

despite the best efforts of your personal caregivers, the limitations of medical knowledge, and the uncertainty of your treatments are harsh realities you have to face. it fills him with anguish to witness your episodes almost daily —suddenly collapsing in his arms, gasping for breath; moments like these are where he feels like he's standing right beside your deathbed, desperately hoping for signs of improvement each time you open your eyes again. 

it kills him that there's nothing he can do but watch over you, he watches as you waste away before his eyes, feeling a piece of himself wither away in tandem. 

dan feng’s eyes search yours the moment you regain consciousness, the doctors respectfully step back, bowing before hurriedly exiting the room. his heart breaks into a million pieces when he sees your eyes that were once bright with joy, now clouded with tears. the sight pierces through him, stirring a deep ache in his chest.

"dan feng," you whisper hoarsely, your voice fragile with pain. “it hurts, it hurts so much…” he presses a soft kiss against your entwined hand, his touch a soothing balm amidst the storm raging within him. “don’t worry,” he murmurs softly, “i’ll make it go away soon, i swear.”

“thank you.. but promise me, if i don't make it, you'll find a way to move on.” you manage a weak smile through the pain. his eyes glisten with unshed tears, he shakes his head slightly, "i won’t let that happen." 

of course he won’t. you were the kindest, most lovely soul before this godforsaken unknown illness with no definitive cure stole your life away; he sees your smile slowly losing its radiance, and your eyes dulling as each day passes. 

“this body… it’s useless, i’m useless. i’m sorry, i—” dan feng places a finger against your lips. his touch tender yet firm, stopping your words. "don't say that," his voice choking with emotion. "you're not useless, in fact you're the strongest person i know."

hearing you utter such self loathing words is like a dagger twisting in his heart, tipping him over the edge. you, who have always been his anchor in life's turbulent seas, slipping away feels like fragile glass shattering into countless shards, leaving him scattered and irreparable, each piece cutting deeper into his core with every breath.

he can't face the idea of losing you. it destroys him from within, even more so now that time is running out. but he won’t let anyone else have you, not even the cold hands of death. for you, he’s willing to pay any price, even if it means he has to break the highest laws of xianzhou.

—

you wake up feeling unusually energized, a stark contrast to the persistent aches and pains that have haunted you for so long. as you sit up, the familiar discomforts are no longer present, instead replaced by an almost surreal sense of vitality.

but something feels strangely off, an unsettling sensation gnawing at the edges of your awareness. your eyes dart around the room, frantically searching for your boyfriend’s presence; he has never left your side without a word (his protectiveness wouldn't allow it anyway), especially not for this long. 

panic flares as you look down at your body. the surgical wounds that once marked your skin have vanished without a trace. your breath catches in your throat as you run your fingers over the smooth, unblemished surface where scars should be.

you push back the covers and swing your legs over the side of the bed, struggling to piece together what could have happened.

where is dan feng? is he in trouble? and, why do you feel so... alive? 

then, a chilling realisation dawns on you. you try to shake the thought from your mind, but no matter how hard you try, you aren’t able to find any other explanation that fits your condition. as the high elder, dan feng should know better than anyone that such an act is a sin —a disgrace...

the truth begins to settle in, he really did sacrifice everything to grant you immortality.

—

“you’re literally the high elder for god's sake, what have you done?!” you exclaim, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger.

dan feng's expression is pained as he meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with a desperate resolve. “i’m only trying to help you. you don’t understand, i—”

“help me?” you cut in sharply, scoffing. “you betrayed xianzhou! you betrayed me. i was ready to let go, so why?” 

he reaches out to you, his hand stopping, and hovering in mid air as if unsure whether to touch you. "i can't bear to lose you," he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. "i can’t just stand by and watch you suffer when i have the power to save you."

tears well up in your eyes, the room feels suffocatingly small as you stand in front of him. for the first time, you find yourself on opposite sides of the battlefield, the weight of his transgression hangs heavy between you, tearing apart everything you once knew. 

“by defying everything we stand for?” you choke out, your words laced with venom. “do you realise just what you’ve done?” he takes a step closer, his face etching with anguish. "i know i’ve made a grave mistake." he admits, “but will you believe me if i say that i didn’t regret it one bit?”

“how can you do all this… for love?” your eyes search his for answers that seem unfathomable. “no, my dear, for you.”  he steps closer, his breath warm against your skin, gaze locking onto yours with an almost desperate intensity. 

"but how can i ever love you again after this?" you whisper, your voice trembling. his heart shatters at how your eyes taint with fear and betrayal, the sight wrapping around his chest like a vice. the mere thought of losing you, of seeing you banished because of his desperation, is a torment he can hardly bear —but now one that he has to face.

"if you can't accept what i've done, i'll grant your wish, whatever it is.” he murmurs. “for you, i’m willing to pay any price." 

though when bound in chains, his title of high elder does little to shield him from the repercussions of breaking the sacred laws. he’s taken away; his fate sealed by the very rules he broke. and you, the one he tried to save, find yourself exiled, cast out for the sin you never chose.

as you wander, lost and alone, the realisation of what he gave up for you lingers, a bittersweet reminder of his love that defied everything, yet cost you both so much. 

—

the land of xianzhou is something dan heng is strangely familiar with; he walks through the maze of narrow alleys and crowded squares, every corner seems to whisper fragments of memories long buried. 

“dan heng! look, isn’t this so cool?!” the excited voice of a pink haired girl reaches his ears. her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as she animatedly gestures towards a nearby market stall with hand-carved trinkets. she continues to gush over the intricate designs while holding the hand of her grey haired companion, eagerly dragging them towards the stall.

his eyes follows them as their silhouette grows smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing amidst the crowd. just then, another figure in the distance catches his attention.

it’s a brief glimpse, a fleeting moment where your eyes meet across the street. perhaps it's your mannerisms, your familiar gestures, or simply the way you carry yourself —whatever it is, it stirs a rush of adrenaline, a sense of déjà vu that he can’t quite shake.

dan heng pushes through the bustling throng, eyes darting frantically in search of you. the world blurs around him as he focuses solely on catching another glimpse of you; he spots you slipping into a narrow alleyway, and without hesitation, he follows.

the noise of the market fades into a distant hum as his footsteps echo softly against the alley walls. he turns a corner and sees you up ahead, your figure outlined by the dim light filtering through cracks in the buildings.

you soon reach a dead end, but as you turn to leave, you bump into someone’s chest. the world seems to stand still for a moment, dan heng's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at you. although your face is partially obscured by a thin veil, your features are still discernible. 

“oh? it seems you still remember me.” you finally meet his gaze. those eyes he cherished so dearly still hold a spark of life. “[name]?” he murmurs, the sound of your name still so intimate on his lips after many years.

“you haven’t changed one bit.” he reaches out to gently push the veil covering your face aside. a flood of memories rushes through his mind, one a sharp pang in his heart. seeing you again triggers a vivid recollection of the exact place and position you were in years ago, a memory that stings to recall.

“i wonder whose fault it is?” you tilt your head, if only he knew the trouble you went through to find him again; given that goodbyes were never exchanged between you, it seems fitting to offer one now.

before he can say a word, you swiftly grab his collar and wedge him firmly against the wall. he doesn’t resist even when he feels the cold sharp edge of your dagger pressing against his throat, his gaze still fixing firmly on yours. 

"have you ever felt remorse?" you lean closer into him, your voice is barely audible through your gritted teeth. he ignores your question; unexpectedly, he grips your hand, dragging the blade down to his chest, positioning the point directly over his heart. 

"as long as my blood is on your hands, go ahead, do it." he whispers, his voice steady despite the tension. "my heart has always been yours anyway." his eyes bore into yours as if daring you to follow through. 

his grip on your hand tightens, urging you closer. "and if this is what it takes to ease your pain, then i'm ready."

"...what? you must be out of your mind if you think this way of making amends will work." your disbelief is clear in your voice; you try to shake his hand away, but he refuses to budge. 

dan feng couldn’t imagine a life without you, so when death takes your hand, he holds on to your other —and finds you again as dan heng. even as he gets on his knees and begs for your forgiveness, he still holds on to your hand as tightly as he can, afraid that any moment you might slip through his fingers.

“i’m sorry, i just couldn’t accept the thought of you leaving me.” and i still can’t, so please don’t leave me again.

you feel your willpower wavering, his very being melting away at your resolve. it's too much to bear, and you feel yourself slipping under the weight of his words. even still, you find yourself struggling to deny him. to deny yourself. to deny your own feelings. 

you fight the urge to simply give in, torn between the desire to just let go and fall into the sweet oblivion of his embrace, and the fear of getting sucked back into a cycle of destruction and pain. the weight of all that history, all those memories of your bittersweet love, it's overwhelming, nearly crushing.

“i know.” your heart aches, but you still deny the crave of the comfort of his arms. “and you’re not wrong,” the dagger clatters to the ground, the metallic sound echoing through the alleyway. 

“your heart is mine.” you push the veil to cover your face, placing your hands on his shoulder, leaning in. the cool silk brush against his parted lips, and oh… he’s been waiting so, so long for this moment.

though you pull away just as he comes to his senses. for the first time in years, he sees your smile again —the same smile that first captivated him, the one he had cherished and sought to preserve over the years. 

"remember the wish you owe me?" he nods, unable to find words. the memory of his promise resurfaces with startling clarity, his mind racing with the possibilities of what you might ask for. 

—

dan heng looks in the dagger's reflection; a dishevelled and broken man stares back.

the cold metal digs deep into his palm, the sharp edge slicing into his skin. in that moment, he wants nothing more than to be free of it, than to plunge the blade into his own heart. he feels the pain all over again, the pain of not being able to hold you, to touch you, to be with you.

for he knows that no matter how tightly he grips the dagger, it will never be the same as holding your hand. he knows that no matter how deeply it cuts into his flesh, it will never feel the same as holding you close.

“i wish i never loved you.” your words echo painfully in his mind. “and i hope we never cross paths again. goodbye, dan feng.” he releases the dagger with a sudden twist of his arm.

if choosing you over xianzhou was wrong, then consider him a sinner, and if loving you this much is his downfall, then consider him already on his knees.

but was it worth everything? was it worth it to see the look of utter desperation on his face? was it worth it to see him break apart in front of you? you feel only resentment and satisfaction; you made him feel what you wanted him to feel, you made him suffer for you.

the blade falls from his grasp, he stands amidst the shards of shattered illusions; the pain of your absence cuts deeper than any blade ever could. 

perhaps in another lifetime, he can find you again. 

for now, he honors your wish and only watches as you live on from the sidelines, yearning to be a part of your life again, even if only in his thoughts and dreams. he remains steadfast in his longing, a silent witness to the unspoken ache that lingers in the wake of your parting words.

—

masterlist

©lowkeyren 2024 only on tumblr. please do not plagiarize, translate, repost on other platforms, or feed my works into ai.

author's notes!! (my line of thought when writing this lul)

1. you made him suffer for you. -> irony. vengeance. he made you suffer BECAUSE of him granting you immortality. 2. dragging the blade down to his chest, positioning the point directly over his heart. = "my heart has always been yours anyway." -> which reader says with “your heart is mine.” 3. “and i hope we never cross paths again. goodbye, dan feng.” -> reader refers to dan heng as dan feng, i wonder what that means. 4. perhaps in another lifetime, he can find you again. -> you're both evil asf ngl, yes he will find you, you can't die aka you can't leave (him). ^ the only reason why he doesn't keep pursuing u now is cus he promised to grant your wish which is "to never cross paths again". (wow, he's such a man of his words.) 5. reader kisses dh over the veil, deliberately denying him the satisfaction of any intimacy. can be seen as a form of "punishment", leaving him yearning for more.

ty for reading xx for each reblog i will write 100 words for pt2 /j (BUT DO REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!! and it might not be a slash jay after all heuehehheh)

[mrsfancyferrari]

Fragments of Hope

Summary: You had an argument with Daniel and you decided to leave him for a while. What you didn't know is that he can't live without you.

Song: MILLION DOLLAR BABY - Tommy Richman

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 4.6k

"Daniel, I feel like you're prioritizing your racing career over our relationship. It seems like you don't care about me anymore." You said, stressing over the fact that Daniel didn't understand.

"I understand why you might feel that way, but racing is my passion and it's important to me. I want you to know that you're also a priority in my life." Daniel replied.

"Well it certainly does feel like it sometimes," You muttered, standing up from your seat.

"Y/N please listen to me," Daniel pleaded, standing up to follow you.

"No you listen to me!" you yelled, turning around to face him. "Everyday you stay in the paddock until 1AM or later when you come home and then you leave at 8AM to go back to work. Daniel, I have less than 7 hours to spend time with you and it's mostly used on you sleeping,"

"I understand that it may feel that way, but racing is not just a career for me. It's my passion," Daniel pleaded, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you more than words can express, and I want to make it work between us."

"How Daniel, tell me how you are going to fix this because right now, I don't feel like I'm in a relationship with you but a friend who helps you."

Daniel stood there, his eyes filled with regret and realization. He had never seen you so upset before, and your words struck a chord deep within him. He knew that he had to make a change, to find a way to balance his racing career with your needs and desires.

"That's what I thought," You muttered, taking your phone before heading for the door, "Don't follow me,"

Feeling frustrated and hurt, you stormed out of the house and went to your best friend's house for the night.

As you're on your way to your friend's place, your phone dies, leaving you disconnected from Daniel. However, when you finally arrive at your friend's house, you decide to check your phone for any missed messages.

Opening your photos or messages, you notice several messages and calls from Daniel. One that read, "I'm sorry for what happened. Are you at your friend's house?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of anger and sadness.

Despite your hurt feelings, you decide to text him back, "Yes, I'm at my friend's house. I need some time to think and process everything. Please respect my space for now."

It's late at night when you find yourself sitting with your friend, doing your skin care routine together. You decide to share your situation with her, expecting some reassurance.

As you pour your heart out to your friend, she listens attentively, her eyes filled with empathy. "I can understand why you're feeling hurt and frustrated," she says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It's important to prioritize your own needs and emotions in a relationship. You deserve someone who can dedicate time and effort to nurturing your connection."

"But I have got to remind you how in love Daniel looks when he's with you," your friend said, her voice filled with sincerity.

"I've seen the way his eyes light up when he talks about you, and the way he always puts your happiness first. Maybe this situation is a wake-up call for him to prioritize your relationship and find a better balance. Give him a chance to make things right, but also remember to listen to your own needs and make decisions that are best for you."

You nod, appreciating your friend's perspective and words of encouragement. "You're right," you reply, "I do see how much Daniel cares about me. I'll take some time to reflect on what I need and have an open conversation with him."

The next day, you and Daniel barely exchange any words. It feels like there's a tension between the two of you, but you try to ignore it.

As the race day approaches, you find yourself watching Daniel's race. Unfortunately, he doesn't perform well, finishing in 19th place. The disappointment weighs heavily on both of you and knew that Daniel would be very disappointed in himself, but you decide to give it some time.

You were always the one to comfort him after a bad race, reminding him that everyone has off days and that his performance does not define his worth as an athlete. You would assure him that you still believed in him and that you're proud of the effort he put in.

Feeling conflicted, you decide to reach out to Daniel after his disappointing race. Despite being in your friend's house, you understand that he is most likely in the paddock as usual.

You send him a text expressing your support and reminding him that you believe in his abilities, hoping that it will provide some comfort during this challenging time. . . .

Days turn into weeks, and the tension between you and Daniel remains. One night, you receive a strange picture from Lando, a close friend of Daniel's and you.

In the photo, you see Daniel, his usually composed and determined demeanor replaced with disheveled hair and glassy eyes. His grip on the lamppost is tight, as if it's the only thing keeping him upright.

The streetlights cast an eerie glow on his face, highlighting the exhaustion and despair etched in his features. It's a stark contrast to the vibrant and confident person you've known him to be.

As you study the image, a wave of concern washes over you. You can't help but wonder what has led Daniel to this point.

Is it the mounting pressure of his racing career? The strain on your relationship? Or something deeper that you're unaware of?

Unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer, you decide to video call Lando, hoping to gain some insight into what has been happening with Daniel lately.

"Lando, what's going on?" you asked worriedly, your voice filled with concern as you hoped to gain some insight into what has been happening with Daniel lately.

"Oh yeah hey Y/N, your boyfriend is really drunk and he is hugging a lamppost with all of his strength," Lando explained, showing his face and waving at the camera.

"I've been trying to get him to come back to the house, but he's been pretty stubborn. I think he's been struggling with the disappointment from the race and it's just gotten to him."

"Let me see him,"

As Lando shifted the camera towards Daniel, you could see the toll that his recent struggles had taken on him. His usually vibrant eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, filled with a mixture of exhaustion and anguish.

His disheveled hair clung to his sweaty forehead, and his once confident posture had slouched, as if weighted down by the burden he carried.

It was clear that he was in a state of deep distress, and your heart ached at the sight of him clinging to the lamppost, seeking solace in his own thoughts.

"Daniel baby," you said in a gentle tone that you would only use for him. Daniel perked up, looking around for you, his eyes scanning the surroundings until they finally met yours on the video call.

There was a glimmer of recognition and relief in his eyes as he realized you were there, offering him a lifeline of support and understanding amidst his turmoil.

With a shaky voice, Daniel whispered, "Y/N, is that you?" His words carried a mix of vulnerability and hope, as if he was desperate for your presence to validate his struggles and offer him the comfort he desperately needed.

Your heart racing, you didn't waste a second. Without another thought, you hung up the video call and rushed out the door, fueled by a determination to be by Daniel's side.

As you sprinted towards where Lando had described, the worry and fear in your chest propelled you forward, your mind filled with a single thought - you needed to reach Daniel, to hold him, and to let him know that he wasn't alone in his pain.

"Lando, make sure that he stays there and share your location," you instructed, knowing that finding Daniel quickly was of utmost importance.

The urgency in your voice reflected the depth of your concern as you relied on Lando to keep an eye on him until you arrived.

"It's not like he's letting go of this lamppost any time soon," Lando joked

You couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'll make sure to give him a little nudge if he's still holding on when I get there," you replied, grateful for the small moment of levity amidst the seriousness of the situation.

Lando chuckled and said, "Just make sure it's a gentle nudge. We don't want him falling over before you get there. I'll keep an eye on him for you, Y/N. He's in good hands."

"Also just make sure you bring some extra strength with you. I have a feeling Daniel might need it," he said, his voice laced with concern.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Lando," you assured him, your voice filled with determination. "Thank you for watching over him. I know he's in good hands with you."

When you finally locate Daniel, you approach him cautiously. He looks disheveled and confused, unaware of the picture you received from Lando.

As soon as you got off the car and walked over to the two of them, Daniel's eyes were on you. His gaze held a mixture of relief, anticipation, and a glimmer of hope, as if he had been waiting for you to arrive and bring him the solace he desperately needed.

"Thank goodness you're here Y/N," Lando said smiling at you before giving you a hug.

"How is he?" You whispered to Lando, glancing at Daniel whose eyes were still trained on you.

"He's in bad shape," Lando whispered, his worry evident in his voice. "He's refusing to drink water, he's been vomiting, and he has a high fever. But no matter what, he won't let go of that lamppost."

Your heart sank as you took in the state Daniel was in. The sight of him clinging to the lamppost, refusing to let go despite his deteriorating health, only heightened your concern.

"I'll go try and talk to him."

"Good luck but you probably won't need it," Lando replied.

As you approached Daniel, you couldn't help but notice the hollowed look in his eyes, as if the light within him had faded. His once vibrant and charismatic demeanor was replaced by a sense of weariness and defeat.

His disheveled hair and trembling hands were clear signs of the toll this ordeal had taken on him, and it was heartbreaking to see him in such a vulnerable state.

The sight of him clinging desperately to the lamppost, his knuckles white with tension, revealed a level of desperation that struck a chord within you.

Nevertheless, you mustered up all the courage you had and gently reached out to touch his shoulder, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself.

"Daniel, it's me Y/N, your girlfriend," you said slowly, your voice filled with love and concern.

His eyes flickered for a moment, as if trying to grasp onto a distant memory, before a glimmer of recognition appeared. "Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, his grip on the lamppost loosening slightly.

"I'm here, Daniel," you replied softly, your heart breaking at the sight of his vulnerability. "I won't leave you alone. We'll get through this together."

You placed your palm against Daniel's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his feverish skin. Concern washed over you as you realized just how sick he was. "We need to get you to a doctor, Daniel," you said, your voice tinged with urgency.

"No doctor," he slurred, his words barely audible. "I don't want their help. Just stay with me, Y/N."

As Daniel's words trailed off, tears welled up in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. Each tear carried the weight of his pain and the fear of losing himself and you.

You held him tightly, offering a comforting embrace as his tears soaked into your shoulder, a silent testament to the depth of his despair.

"Daniel," you said gently, wiping away his tears with your thumb, "I understand that you're scared and don't want anyone's help. But I can't stand to see you suffer like this. The doctors can help you get better. They have the knowledge and resources to treat you. Please, let me take you to the hospital. I'll be right by your side the whole time, I promise."

Daniel looked at you with a mix of desperation and gratitude, his trembling hand reaching out to hold yours tightly. "Okay," he whispered, his voice filled with surrender, "take me to the hospital."

You nodded, grateful for Lando's support. Slowly and carefully, with Lando's help, you guided Daniel to Lando's car. As you settled into the back seats, Daniel's trembling hand still tightly holding yours, Lando started the engine and drove off towards the hospital, the weight of the situation heavy in the air.

Daniel leaned against you, his body weak and trembling. Each breath he took seemed to require immense effort, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your heart as you held him close, praying for his strength to endure just a little longer until you reached the hospital.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," he whispered while taking in sharp breaths, his voice strained with pain.

"What do you mean baby?" you whispered, observing every movement Daniel made.

"I'm sorry.... for.... for not being.... good enough," Daniel stuttered, tears streaming down his face.

Your heart shattered at his words, and you squeezed his hand tighter, your voice filled with love and conviction. "Daniel, please don't say that. You are more than enough, and I love you just the way you are. We'll get through this together, I promise."

"I... love you," Daniel muttered. "Please don't leave... me."

"I love you too, Daniel," you replied, tears welling in your eyes. "I will never leave your side. We're in this together, and we will fight through it. You are not alone."

The rest of the journey was mostly silent, as you focused on keeping Daniel awake and alert, gently talking to him and urging him to stay awake. However, Daniel's exhaustion and pain were overwhelming, and he longed for the comfort of sleep.

Despite his struggle, he fought to stay awake, knowing that reaching the hospital was crucial for his survival.

As you pulled up to the hospital, Lando's prearranged call had ensured that a medical team was waiting at the entrance with a stretcher for Daniel. They quickly and efficiently transferred him onto the stretcher, their urgency matching the gravity of the situation.

You watched with a mix of relief and anxiety as they whisked Daniel away, knowing that he was now in the hands of the medical professionals who could provide him with the immediate care he needed.

You and Lando waited in the waiting room, your legs bouncing against the floor in a nervous rhythm. The minutes felt like hours as you anxiously scanned the hallway for any sign of the medical team returning with updates on Daniel's condition. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, and all you could do was hope and pray for positive news.

"I couldn't help but listen in your conversation in the car," Lando started. "Did something happen before today?"

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you replied, "Yes, Daniel and I have been going through a difficult time lately."

"Excuse me, were you the ones who brought Mr. Ricciardo?" the doctor asked, looking at you and Lando. Your heart raced as you nodded, eager for any updates on Daniel's condition.

"Yes, we brought him," you replied anxiously. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?" The doctor's face softened as they looked at you both with empathy. "We're doing everything we can for Mr. Ricciardo. He's stable for now, but we need to run some tests and monitor him closely. It's too early to say anything definitive, but we're hopeful."

"Can we at least see him?" Lando asked on your behalf, his voice filled with concern. The doctor nodded sympathetically, understanding your need to be by Daniel's side during this critical time.

"Yes, you can see him, but please keep in mind that he needs rest and quiet. Follow me."

As you followed the doctor down the hallway, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts raced through your mind. Fear, hope, and a desperate longing to see Daniel battled within you, creating a tumultuous storm of anticipation.

You clung to the doctor's words of hope, praying that they would ring true and that Daniel would pull through this ordeal.

As you entered Daniel's hospital room, you were taken aback by his appearance. His usually vibrant and energetic demeanor had been replaced by a pale and weakened figure lying motionless on the bed.

The sight of him hooked up to machines and monitors sent a pang of sadness and worry through your heart. Tubes and wires were connected to his body, a stark reminder of the severity of his condition.

Despite the sterile and clinical environment, the room was filled with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability and fragility.

The beeping of the machines provided a haunting soundtrack to the room, punctuating the silence that hung heavily in the air. Daniel's closed eyes gave no indication of his awareness of your presence, and you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of helplessness.

"I'll leave you to it." The doctor muttered, closing the door and leaving you and Lando in the room.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. As you stood there, surrounded by the beeping machines and the stillness of Daniel's presence, the weight of the situation sank deep into your being.

It was a somber reminder of the fragility of life and the powerlessness you felt in the face of it all.

You sat down beside Daniel, gently taking his hand in yours. The touch of his cold skin sent a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the warmth and vitality he once exuded. As you sat there, you couldn't help but silently will him to fight, to overcome whatever obstacles lay ahead.

"This is all my fault," you muttered, silently crying onto Daniel's hand, overwhelmed by guilt and regret. You couldn't help but blame yourself for the situation, questioning every decision and action that led to this moment.

The weight of guilt and regret pressed heavily upon you as you sat beside Daniel, crying silently onto his hand. Every decision and action leading up to this moment played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you with thoughts of self-blame and what-ifs.

The emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but wonder if you could have done something differently to prevent this.

"It's not your fault," Daniel strained, his voice weak but filled with reassurance. You quickly looked up, astonishment and relief flooding your eyes as you saw him awake.

"I'll leave it up to you guys," Lando said as he left the room and left you both having no chance to hear him as he left.

"Does it hurt?" you muttered.

"No but it hurts that you're crying," Daniel muttered, slowly raising his hand to wipe your tears, "It's not your fault,"

"I shouldn't have left like that, I distracted you before your race and now this," you said, your voice filled with remorse and self-blame. Daniel's weak smile broke through the heaviness in the room as he gently squeezed your hand.

"Don't blame yourself," he whispered, his words carrying a sense of forgiveness and understanding.

"I shouldn't have treated you like that for you to leave the house," Daniel stated, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise to focus more on our relationship and prioritize our happiness above all else."

"You don't have to," you muttered.

"But I will, I promise."

"You know," Daniel began, his voice growing stronger, "I've had a lot of time to think while I was lying here. And I realized that life is too short for us to hold onto regrets and blame ourselves for things that are out of our control. We can't change the past, but we can choose how we move forward from here."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude and hope. "You're right," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and determination.

"Can you get in here with me? I miss having you beside me when I sleep," Daniel muttered, his voice filled with longing and vulnerability.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was appropriate, but ultimately decided to climb into the hospital bed and snuggle up beside him, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

"Are you comfortable?" you whispered, laying against Daniel's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"More than ever," he replied, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if never wanting to let go.

As you kept quiet, tracing Daniel's tattoos slowly, you marveled at the stories they told, each inked line representing a moment in his life. It was a silent act of love and connection, a way for you to understand him on a deeper level without words.

This was how most of your nights would end, with you tracing over Daniel's tattoos while he tenderly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back. It was a comforting routine that brought you both a sense of peace and intimacy, allowing you to express your love for each other without the need for words.

In those quiet moments, you felt a deep connection and understood that the stories etched on his skin were a part of him, just as you were a part of each other's lives.

"Will you come to live with me again?" Daniel muttered against the top of your head, his words filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and felt a surge of love and longing.

"Daniel," you whispered, your voice filled with uncertainty. As you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity and desperation in his gaze.

A part of you wanted to believe him, to give him one more chance, but another part of you was hesitant, unsure if things could truly be different this time.

Daniel begged desperately, "Please, give me one chance and I promise that I will be more committed to our relationship if given the chance."

Taking a deep breath, you let the love you still felt for Daniel override your doubts. "Yes," you whispered, a mix of hope and caution in your voice. "I'll give us one more chance, but we have to take it slow and work on rebuilding trust."

Daniel grinned, "That's all I need," he said, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. "I promise you won't regret this. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

Your heart fluttered as Daniel's hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Goosebumps erupted across your skin with every touch, igniting a fire within you that only he could ignite. The electricity between you is palpable, and you can't help but melt into his embrace.

As your lips met, a wave of familiarity and passion washed over you. The taste of his kiss was like coming home, a sweet and addictive blend of warmth and tenderness. In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and desire.

The world around you faded into the background as you lost yourself in the intoxicating dance of his lips against yours, each kiss deepening the connection between your souls.

Time stood still as you surrendered to the magnetic pull of his embrace, savoring every stolen breath and gentle caress. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent promise of a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger than ever.

You gently tug at his collar, out of breath, and as Daniel asks, "Do you want me to stop?"

Also out of breath, and with a mischievous smile, you whisper, "Just the opposite, please. Don't stop."

Your words are filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire, a silent plea for him to continue. With a knowing smile, Daniel leans in closer, his touch becoming even more electrifying, as the intensity between you grows with each passing moment.

"God, I missed this," Daniel muttered against your lips, his voice filled with longing and a tinge of regret. The weight of his words hung in the air, reminding you of the time lost and the journey ahead.

But in that moment, all that mattered was the fire that burned between you, igniting a passion that refused to be extinguished. . . .

[meydang]

cute wings

(sfw)

Nameless!Sunday x Nameless!reader

Based on Sunday's ultimate animation and my own headcanons about halovian's lore.

.

.

.

"So what was that move you whip out earlier? The one with the vines and everything!" You said, clearly impressed while sitting down on one of the couch.

"Have you been hiding the other two pair of wings or do they only come out when you do that last move?" You asked eagerly when Sunday enter the parlor car, the both of you having just gotten back from your trailblazing expidition together. Your eyes following him as he joins you on the couch, with sparks of curiosity in it.

It hasn't been that long since Sunday joined the Astral express, but he could definitely say that it's been enough for him to start opening up to all the nameless and vice versa.

"Ah, are you refering to my supporting spell?" This is the case especially for you, with your seemingly endless energy and desire to learn about everything, it's only a matter of time before you start flooding him with all these question about anything that piqued your interest.

"For halovians, our wings are like a representation of our emotion and power, similar to that of our halo." Sunday pause for a moment, you guessed to try and think of an answer that will satisfy your question.

"To put it simply, take that fight we just won earlier for example, I was using my power to aid us, the wings that appeared were due to my strong emotion and use of power at the moment." He turned to look at you as you nod multiple times, trying to grasp your head around the new information like a lost puppy trying to figure out where it is.

You do that quite often - something Sunday has took notice and find endearing.

Cute, he think.

"Sooo... does that mean the wings can only come out when you are in a state like that?" You finally said after some time. "Aw pity, I was hoping you could make them appear anytime you know, I think they are really adorable!" You said what you were thinking with all honesty, completely oblivious to the fact that your last comment caught the halovian off guard and flustered to his core, hints of red dusting his cheeks.

"Th-that is not entirely correct, I can make them visible if I want to, but I'll need to be in a state of strong emotion or focus on my power in that case." Sunday tries to brush of your compliment about his wings with his answer, but before he could given it anymore thoughts, you have already came up with an idea.

Sunday jolts slightly as you prop your chin onto his shoulder, your face display a smug expression, looking up at him with your hand on top of his own.

"Wait, if I'm correct... Then I'll just have to make you feel emotions strong enough for your cute wings to come out, right?"

Huh? What did you just say? What are you planning? How did- what? There is a million things going through Sunday's head right now and the fact that your gaze are still fixed on him while this is happening does not help at all. Sunday doesn't know what is worse, the way he got insanely flustered just by a few compliments or you being extremely close to him right now.

"Well...? Aren't you gonna say anything?" He heard you said in the slowest and most teasing way possible, as if to get even more reaction from him. Before he could even answer, you stood up and move infront of him.

"Sunday." you said while bending down to face him, your hands on your knees and face tilting down at him with an adoring smile.

Huh?

"Yes?" He managed to say, his head spinning to guess what are you planning to say next.

"Although it hadn't been long since you join the express, you have been adapting and trying your best to keep up with the crew really well." Sunday can feel his cheeks burning with every sweet words uttered from your mouth. You on the other hand, are determined to get his marvelous wings to come out.

"You have done a great job as a nameless... Don't you think so too?" You continue, still looking down at him but leaned in a bit closer, too close for Sunday to maintain his composure. If he still has any, that is.

"Ah, th-thank you. That's very kind of you to say." As his wings move to cover his face, he can here an audible 'aww' coming from you which caught him by surprise. Resulting in him moving them to his side again, for a better view of what was happening.

"It worked!" Opening his eyes, Sunday sees you smiling and gushing over his wings - ah, right, his other wings that have appeared due to him being oh so flustered just by your simple remarks.

"May I touch them?" You asked, your gaze gentle, yet still intense that it makes Sunday gulp nervously as his face turn even more red.

"Yes, you may." Sunday doesn't know why he gave you permission, as if you being in such close proximity to him wasn't enough to get his heart pounding. Especially with the fact that his wings are actually pretty sensitive.

With a happy grin, you reach out to glide over the feathers with the back of your hand, not missing how doing it make Sunday shudders a bit.

"Oh, sorry!" You retrieve your hand after noticing.

"No no, it's fine... please continue." He assured, not wanting you to feel bad. Even if he doesn't exactly want you to keep thumbing his wings like this... purely because it's making him all embarrassed and a blushing mess.

"You know... what I said earlier about you joining the express. I wasn't just teasing you, I actually meant it." You reach out for his wings again, this time with a soft smile, making sure he knows you are being sincere.

Sunday made a dumbfounded expression, or atleast you think he is, his face shows a mix of gratitude and confusion as he stare at you.

"I am grateful that you hold me on such high regards, though... I do not believe I have made any significant contribution to the express, more less better than all of you." Sunday answered truthfully. How could you say all these good things about him when he doesn't deserve any of it? How are you still able to welcome him with open arm? After all his mistakes, after the grand pursuit of a dream paradise through such manipulative methods, and-

"Sunday!"

He blinked,

Once,

Twice,

"Hey, are you okay? You just zoned out for a moment." You move your hands from his wings to his shoulder, sitting down next to him again, tone worried.

"Sorry... I was just deep in thought. Were you saying something?" He quickly apologized, feeling bad for making you worried. Yet again another reason he doesn't deserve your praises, Sunday blames himself.

"I said stop thinking bad about yourself. Don't ever say anything like that... nobody is perfect, everyone has their own flaws and values. You just have to not let your doubts get to you." You turned Sunday towards your direction a bit, so that he's looking at you in the eyes.

"Hm, promise me you'll never think negatively about yourself again." You said firmly, waiting for him.

"I-I promise." With an exhale Sunday replied to you, smilling. "Thank you."

You smile back "There we go, now that's my little angle~"

!?

This is the second time you have caught him off guard in this conversation. Little angle? At this point he swear you will be the death of him eventually, Sunday think as you suddenly lit up.

"Well, let's lighten things up a bit..." you said, pulling out your phone. "Say cheeseeee" what are y-

Snap

Just like that, a picture of Sunday smilling sheepishly and flapping his wings was sent to the astral express family group chat. Earning you a panic, embarrassed Sunday and the multiple 'aww's from the trailblazer and March.

_

The Astral Express Family

You: (picture)

You: I found a happy bird on the express today~

March: aww

Trailblazer: wow! Six wings!

Trailblazer: aww

Sunday: ...

_

[babyleostuff]

hi! I was wondering if you would write an angst svt reaction about them saying something they didn’t mean in a fight but it just came out?

i decided to do this with the hhu, if you want me to do it with any of the other units let me know!

saying something they didn’t mean in a fight | hip hop unit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

as a leo and a fire sing myself, i’m sure that cheol can be a bit impulsive and not think his actions through, especially if it’s during a fight where his emotions are all over the place. things would get heated really quickly with him, and he’d have a hard time holding his tongue. 

“shit, baby,” he reached for your hand, eyes wide and panicked. “don’t fucking call me that seungcheol,” you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, looking at him with an expression that made his heart shutter to million pieces. 

he knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said them, but his brain was too slow to understand that, and the heat of the argument made him lose all of his common sense. “my precious baby, i’ve hurt them,” that would be the thought that’d run through his mind, as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just done. “just… leave me alone.”

and he’d do that. he’d give you as much time as you needed, but that wouldn’t mean he’d abandon you. cheol would make you your favourite ramyeon and place it at the nightstand next to your bed where you were resting, or he’d put his hoodie in the dryer you always wore after shower, so it’d be warm and cosy. 

and he’d take his pillow and blanket from your bed to sleep on the couch, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, and so that you could rest peacefully. but then, after maybe an hour of tossing and turning, seungcheol would hear quiet footsteps, and a dog's paws running across the wooden floor, meaning you couldn’t sleep as well. 

you’d lay next to seungcheol, your back pressed against his warm chest, as his arms shyly sneaked around your waist to pull you even closer. “please, let’s never fight like that again,” you murmured, pulling one of cheol’s hands under your chin, nuzzling your nose against his palm.

 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 

honestly, i have a hard time imagining wonwoo saying something he doesn’t mean. i feel like he always thinks before he talks, no matter what situation he’s in, and he strikes me as a person who is great at keeping his emotions at bay, contrary to cheol. he’d also have this thought at the back of his head that no fight is worth hurting you with his words. 

you looked at each other in confusion, as the words left wonwoo’s mouth. never in your whole relationship had he said anything like that, so you were taken aback more by the fact that he even said it more than that it was directed towards you. 

wonwoo nervously fixed his glasses, looking as lost as you. you could almost see his brain trying to understand what had just happened. “i’m sorry i… i didn’t mean what i just said,” he looked at you, eyes big and sad. 

you sighed, and grabbed his hand intertwining your fingers. “i know you didn’t mean it baby” you said, looking at his broken expression. “but you still said it.” his eyes got even wider, and he quickly cradled your face in his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks. 

“i know that no matter what i say won’t change what i did, but you have to know that no part of my mind and soul believes in what i said. that was just a stupid intrusive thought that i shouldn’t have said.” 

even though you said you forgave him, wonwoo was still very attentive to you for the rest of the evening - he had you on his lap for the whole time he was gaming, he made sure the sweatshirt you wore to bed was one of his best ones, and he cuddled you extra close to his chest that night.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

another fire sign, and as cheol (this might be an unpopular opinion?), might also have issues with controlling his emotions and words during heated arguments. like, i know he’s an amazing person with the best personality, etc. etc. BUT i see gyu as someone who is very defensive of his beliefs and point of views, and i think he can get quite stubborn, which can lead to him saying things he doesn’t really mean.

mingyu knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth - both of you were consumed by your emotions and neither of you were thinking clearly. the only difference was that he let those emotions hurt you. 

“i didn’t… i don’t…,” he whispered, looking at your shattered expression. yeah, he couldn’t believe it either that those horrendous words left his mouth. you closed your eyes tightly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the person who you trusted with your life broke your heart just like that, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. he didn’t deserve a single tear after what he had done. 

you held your head high up as you turned around and started walking towards the door. “no, no please,” mingyu followed after you, catching up with you quickly. “don’t leave my love. hate me, yell at me, punch me, but don’t leave,” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes glossy, and you knew that he was trying not to cry as well. 

“i’ll take the couch for tonight, but stay. i won’t let you walk out, it’s too dangerous.” 

he cradled your head in his hands, and pecked your forehead gently, before disappearing in the bedroom to take his pillow and an extra blanket.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 

same with wonwoo, i don’t see vernon saying something he doesn’t mean. like, i don’t think his mind even works that way. for one - arguments with him are never heated, not because he doesn’t give a fuck, but his personality and mindset are so calm and collected in itself that neither of you even have a chance to raise your voices.

“i’m sorry,” he stared at his shoes, too scared to look at you. “i’ll leave you alone.” 

he quietly closed the front door behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment, confused and sad. vernon rarely got angry, especially at you, and you had never heard him raise his voice. you had a stupid fight that probably started over something stupid, but both of you were tired and irritated and you just snapped at each other.

but you didn’t mean for him to leave. 

later that night, when the sun had already set, vernon came back home as quietly as he left. “chwe hansol, where the fuck have you been?” you exclaimed, worried to death. You threw your arms around hiis neck, pulling him close to you. You shivered as he nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. 

“you know i didn’t mean what i said, right?” he asked, pulling his face away from you. “of course, silly,” you smiled at him, caressing the back of his neck. “but never leave like that again, or i’ll kick you out myself.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic

[prettyboykatsuki]

alkali. | m. bachira

✮  tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, omegaverse, morning sex, unprotected sex, knotting, bachira being a lovesick mess, 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (guys....)

✮  a/n ; a comission for @cottoncalicoes. thank you for commissioning me!!!

✮  synopsis ; every moment of bachira's life has been painted by you.

or a soft post story from another word for homesick, from bachira's perspective.

tip jar | commission post (currently closed) | ao3 link.

[ TWENTY-ONE ]

"Meguru," Your voices catches on a breath, just short of pleasant sigh as your hand lands on his chest, pushing him away from you. "Quit it already."

There's an edge to your exasperation - familiar and affectionate that makes Bachira purr deep from his chest. He's wrapped around you tight, morning sun filtering through the blinds and casting a soft yellow glow on your skin. He buries his face in your neck, nose brushing your scent glands.

Something rich and warm suffuses through him as he inhales it. Years and years of his life entangled in you.

He's giddy with it. It's been months now and he's still so restless with his love you for.

His voice comes out whiny, high pitched yowling as he hugs you tighter, still, somehow. Trying to squeeze you into his ribs like you'll fit there with enough effort - he slots his morning wood against the swell of your belly and inhales. Marks you with his own scent until it covers you completely.

(Bachira developed this habit forever ago. Back when you were kids and you were convinced that he was another innocent omega. It worked well enough to keep alphas off of you, omega's not so much.

He wishes it worked on both. On everyone so you could be his so obviously nothing could get between you. He wishes he could bond with you so many times over until he's engraved into your bones

It might be enough then. Probably not though.)

You laugh again, and it's beautiful and measured like always. "Meguru,"

"Don't wanna get up yet." He whines. He can already feel you concede. "Wanna do stuff. And have lots of sex."

"It's too early to have sex,"

"It's never too early to have sex, silly," He replies, all smiles. "I'm an alpha you know? With the worlds prettiest omega in my bed. This much is normal. It's fine already so come on."

"I had plans for today." You say, ignoring his words with an expertise of a life time. "Errands, chores."

"Ehh?? Boring—like super boring. Super duper boring. Don't wanna, wanna stay here with you."

"You're so difficult," You're smiling while you say it. "We spent most of this week together again, Meguru."

You skirt around the obvious. Most of the week making love. Bachira can't keep his hands off of you. He can't get enough of you and during the limited weeks of his off season - there's nothing to do but indulge his strongest emotions.

He lets his nose brush your jaw, placing a kiss a a fading mark on your neck and the permanent bond on your nape. "Mhm. And you look so full and perfect with my knot, I can't help it. It's in my instinct."

"Your instinct is to keep your knot in me 24/7?" You tease. Bachira nods.

"Duh. Right where it belongs." He says, then adds. "I want to be close to you all the time. Cuddling isn't enough, yknow? I'd eat you if I could."

Weak against him, you move to curl up into him. It makes Bachira so happy he feels like he could explode into a million pieces. It's there again, that feeling. That he's so happy he could burst at the very seams of him and there's no other way to express it other then loud enough for the world to hear.

A wave of affection and aggression and adoration come over in one go. And he's swift as he flips you onto your back. You turn over with a yelp, arms securing around neck. "Don't be so rowdy this early in the morning,"

He looks at you where you look up at him, soothingly pushing hair from his face when you say it. You're not even slightly upset. You look like you love him, like you always have. Kind and perfect and lovely and wholly like you understand. Like you know Bachira. Not once in his life do you look at him like he's too much for you.

He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he—

He kisses you. Hard and desperate. A kiss to your lips, then the corner of your mouth, to all over your face as his fingers deftly pull away at your PJ shorts. You're a mess of giggles— sweet between gasping breathes. Bachira thinks it might be his favorite sound. He kisses you while you laugh, between breathless sharp bouts of it until you're content with sighing.

His brain loops the same thought, simple and constant like a stream. Or maybe more like a tidal wave. More like a tsunami, more like an Earthquake. Maybe there's no disaster grand enough to put the feeling into words - maybe a love so pure and full exceeds language entirely.

Bachira thinks so. His head is so filled with you it feels like you're what makes up the gray matter of his body and what words could there be for something so physical ? He feels it in his chest when he breathes. When his shoulders tremble with laughter, when he cries or sleeps or eats, when he lives at all and every cell in his body are screaming at him that he loves you more than anyone else in the world.

He's unceremonious and desperate when he takes your shorts off. He wants you. He needs you. You're all he's ever needed.

When you spread your legs, he's greeted by the perfect view of your pussy - hairs slicked back from arousal. He should get to take his time with you. He thinks about it. How to treat you gently, properly. He's never been good at it though.

He's never been desired you in a way that's gentle and you've never asked him too. His feelings are overbearing and possessive. Even smothering you isn't enough.

You've been dating again for a few months now, together again after years. Drops of affection piling up inside of him leaving an ocean of longing in it's wake.

You're the first person Bachira has ever known. You were the one to approach him, to trust him, to be honest with him, to accept him wholly.

He doesn't think there'll ever be a time where he can tell you what it meant to him.

He can't bring it in himself to be patient when it's so heavy in him all the time—when you've got yourself spread open like this. Pretty and perfect and dripping - aching for his knot early in the sunlight, familiar flush on your face. A wetness to your eyes, color to your lips.

"It's soft enough," You tug at his wrist. "C'mon. If you're gonna do it. Hurry."

This is how Bachira has spent every day of this week. Listening to the pleasant melody of your voice when he goads you again - loving the way you break down for him. He sits up slightly on his knees and draws his thumb against your slick folds.

Your body is so inviting. Throbbing with need as you whimper in response to his touch, his thumb settling on the swollen nerves of your clit. Drawing circles too slow on purpose and watching you get wetter. You keen.

"Meguru, don't be mean."

God. He grins a little, pulling his hand away as he shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock stands, fat and heavy as he taps it against your sex. You look down in anticipation, look up again for him at mercy. How could he fuck you gently when your expression reads as so desperate to be pounded?

He leans down to kiss you hard as the tip slides into your entrance. He captures the gasp you let out, a hand on your waist to anchor his grip - another at your jaw to hold it and kiss you deep. His tongue slides against yours sloppy and you make a noise of protest - probably concerned about your breath or something silly.

Bachira doesn't care. He can't think of anything other than how much he utterly adores you. How it wires him. Makes the parts of himself he's always been disconnected from—the alpha he's always felt separate to, pant with desire. He can feel every nerve in his body, every fiber of his muscles—all the ways they want you to be between his teeth. Devour you, makes a mess. An apex predator who so adores his perfect prey. Born to hunt you. Born to love you.

He slides his cock into the soft, wet, sticky warmth of your cunt with ease. Your slick makes it easy for him - built to take his cock in smooth motion. A soft sound comes from your throat as he thrusts in easily.

"It's so full, Meguru," You mumble, a hand on your belly. "I love you."

"So cute," He kisses your jaw, waiting for you to adjust only long enough to breathe. "You're so cute."

He rocks his hips slowly building to hard thrusts, feeling you clench down around him whenever he slides out - cunt gripping down like it needs him always.

Bachira lets the temptation of that thought guide his hips. He's always learning new things about himself with you, or maybe just the old parts of him always evolve to fit you better.

He can feel how easily his body wants to succumb to the pleasure of you around him. You wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks into you again and again, arms around his shoulders. The way you moan his name is sweet, makes Bachira feel even wilder.

Your hands card through his hair even while he fucks you hard and reckless. Gesture sweet and domestic, it makes him laugh against your mouth.

Bachira thinks of your life together as he buries his dick deep inside you. Thinks of the years you were apart and feels his chest get tight. Thinks of all the time he wants to make up for it by spending the rest of his life with you now and forever.

He was made for you. That's the only way he can make sense of it. Why else would Bachira be made to be too much if not to be softened and nurtured by you? The only omega in his life. only one he'll ever miss.

Here is the only place he'll ever feel at home.

The thought drives him over the edge. He feels his chest well up with emotion as he thrusts - gripping onto your hips as he lets it all go. He cums hard, his knot swelling at the base of his cock. You whine loudly as it stretches and stretched and stretches you, the air punched out of your lungs.

He holds it in until he can give you the same. His hand slides against between your bodies, clumsy and desperate, as his fingers find your clit. You're sensitive to the touch, throbbing endlessly as he rubs the bundle of nerves, fast and hard.

It just doesn't feel good if he doesn't cum together with you.

"Meguru—c-cumming,"

He cums right alongside you. You pulse and spasm, legs clasped around his waist and holding onto him desperately as your cunt milks cock. He follows, filling you with his cum almost instantly before the base of his cock begins to swell with a familiar euphoria.

The pleasure is intense. It never seems to settle down, sensitivity spiked as he plugs his knot inside of. The way your body accommodates him makes his stomach tie in knots, cunt clinging to him possessively in the same way his knot anchors inside of you. He shivers.

The intense feeling of longing doesn't dull even after you both catch your breath. Instead it shifts, changes to something heavier as he sniffles.

He always cries during sex lately. You comfort him the same way you did when you were kids.

"You're crying again," You whisper, all warm.

"I love you," He sniffles. He doesn't know how else to say it. "I love you so much. You're never allowed to go anywhere ever."

You laugh loudly at that and he smiles even through tears.

"I don't have any plans to do that anyhow," You hum holding him. "We're made to be a pair, you know? Makes more sense that way,"

An ocean of longing and you—the hopeful sky above it. The moon to his sun. A corrosive acid and his great equalizer. A perfect pair.

Yes, Bachira knows exactly what you mean.

[explicit-tae]

Hey can you write a jk fic about a world where people can't express anything like they can't laugh,cry or feel any type of emotions and they don't know about these and then jk feels something after seeing oc like that ...

Actually I don't know how to tell you 😭😭

Since there's not really a lot to go off of, I just did what I could with what you gave me 😅 hopefully its similar to what you were intending to say 🫶🏽

Cosmic Balance

Every universal realm has a positive and negative - good or bad. Jungkook manages to cross the portal from his dystopian world to your utopian one and decides that he'd do anything to stay with you.

Word Count: 8.786

Warning: dystopian world, sex-work/brothel, protected/unprotected sex, mentions of cheating, kissing, virtual reality sex, nipple sucking, oral sex, riding, creampie, slight dirty talk, fingering,

Alternate Universe

“Just try it…” is all Jungkook can hear in his mind. His eyes flash to the large digital clock flashing outside his window - he was supposed to be asleep now, as was everyone in his world. “It’s a portal to a whole different world. Just make sure you’re back by 6 am.”

Jungkook’s hands tremble as he grasps the cover on his mirror. It’s one - of many - forbidden rules, completely unforgivable. He never questioned why all reflected areas should be covered as night came, but then again, it was a question that should never be answered.

Jungkook’s world is dark and dull - gray. He was raised upon these rules - he and millions of others. There were rules that were meant to be followed and going against them meant dire consequences - death always an option. 

Jungkook removes the cover quickly and swallows the lump in his throat. He stares at his reflection - the terrified look in his eyes and his heaving chest. He licks his lips, the thought of his breaking a forbidden rule has the hairs on his skin rising.

Jungkook looks closer at his reflection, his finger reaching out to touch. There’s a rippling effect in the reflection that when Jungkook touches, he visibly is horrified when his hand falls through the mirror.

Jungkook snatches himself away from the mirror and quickly covers the mirror with the cover once more. He falls onto his bed, heart thumping that they were right - his friends were correct. There was a whole different world besides the one he’s in now and the thought scares him.

Jungkook often wished that there was a different world he could live in. A world where there weren't strict rules for being excited - he could laugh freely in public when something was funny and not risk being arrested and fined.

Was there truly a world that allowed their people to be free - where the atmosphere was carefree and loving. Did the other world allow their people to laugh, smile - even cry - in public and not the confines of their own room. Did the other people only arrest those who were actually committing heinous crimes, and not because they were a minute late on curfew?

Did the other world allow their people to love and marry whoever they wanted? Jungkook thinks how in a few years at the age of 28 he would be married to whoever his government chose - based on status - and he would be expected to have a child no later than a year. Women who couldn’t bear children would be forced to be alone and provide for themselves. They were encouraged to be whores and work in brothels - “it’s not like you could bear a child anyways” is the harsh words the government would speak to them.

Men would oftentimes be ridiculed, losing job opportunities and their status in life lowering. 

Jungkook thinks how his life would be if he was in another world where he could love who he wants to and not who he was chosen to.

It’s what Jungkook thinks when he sees you, the same work attire as his. You were soon destined to marry someone else just like he was and he knows that he could never have you. There was always a possibility that you would be chosen for him - but Jungkook doesn’t allow himself to think about it. He isn’t an idiot and he understands that you were going to be taken away by some other man and married - and you’d have that man’s child instead.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s for a moment and he glances away. He was staring again, he thinks. You’re a smart woman and you know how he feels for you and understands that he could never act upon them. You weren’t a barren woman - and a relationship - sexual or not - prior to marriage to an unbarren woman is one of many forbidden rules.

“Still looking at Y/N?” 

The seat beside Jungkook is taken by Taehyung. His friend opens the laptop and begins to type, continuing his work. He speaks in a low tone to not disturb the peace - doing so could lead to arrest.

“She could report you for harassment.” 

You could, Jungkook thinks. Women have reported men for harassment all the time - harrassment being even glancing their way if they didn’t appreciate the act. 

You could, but you never did.

“Have you gone to the brothel? Maybe you need to let off some steam.” Taehyung glances his way a bit, his typing not ceasing. “Staring at her isn’t going to make things easier.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond - because he knows Taehyung is correct. The last thing he did want was for you to report him for harassment. He could go to the brothel, sure, but there was no real connection there. He could fuck for as long as he desired, but there was no true connection to the women he was fucking nor did he ever know what these women looked like as their upper and lower body are separated. 

Sex shouldn’t be so quick nor easy - so one sided. Jungkook wants to know did these women feel the same as he did - even if it was a quick high. Did they enjoy the way he fucked them or did they want him to be slower - or faster, go deeper. 

“There you go,” Taehyung murmurs, his fingers typing fast. “in your head again. Did you do as we told you?”

Jungkook sends a e-document and shakes his head. “Freaked out.” he murmurs. 

Taehyung snorts quietly. “I knew you would.”

Jungkook sighs. “It isn’t that easy.”

“How so? You walk through the mirror during an in-between and make sure you’re back on time.” Taehyung shrugs. He glances at you for a moment, noticing how your eyes are upon them - mainly Jungkook. You appear to be surprised that Taehyung catches you and quickly, you turn away. 

“What are you afraid of?” Taehyung murmurs.

What was he afraid of?

There was a lot to be afraid of. He had never broken a forbidden rule before - uncovering a mirror after hours  was an unforgivable one, and now he understood why. There was a whole different universe out there that was seemingly different than his own - he wouldn’t know how to navigate it. His friends had told him stories that appeared to be just that, stories. Something fictional and unbelievable. 

Jungkook was afraid that if he went to this world, that he’d never want to return to his own.

Jungkook is disgusted with himself - disgusted in how he finds himself in the brothel.

Not only Jungkook - but many unmarried men starting at the age of 21-27. This was the only place where it didn’t matter how loud you were. You could scream, yell, curse - hell, cry. You can display any type of emotion inside the brothel.

The brothel had color and life to it - not the sad beige and gray of the outside world. It appeared to be like a dream - was this what the other world was like? Colorful? Cherry? Maybe that’s why his friend visited at night. It was like a vacation away from the reality in which they lived.

“Kook!”

As arm wraps around Jungkook’s shoulders. 

“Not surprised to see you here after the way you acted at work.” Taehyung says loudly, his natural state booming inside of the brothel. “You’re late. We have to all be gone in an hour.”

Jungkook knows this - he never intended on coming until the last minute. It feels like he’s doing the walk of shame coming inside the brothel, but no one cares. All of these men inside of here were looking to get away; to let off steam from the world they lived in.

“You look depressed.” Taehyung snorts. “You know we don’t judge here.”

“Exactly, Kook.” Jimin places a hand on his shoulder, seemingly appearing from thin air. “I think you should try virtual reality.”

Jungkook scoffs. “It’s bad enough I’m in here.” he murmurs.

“Tae told me the way you were looking at Y/N.”

Of course Taehyung did.

“She’s a fertile woman. Meaning she will be married off to whoever the government chooses as would you.”

Jimin was never the one to sugar coat anything. Jungkook could only respect it.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t pretend.” Taehyung slaps Jungkook's back. “I’ll pay for it.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “That’ll be expensive.” he says with a shake of his head.

Casual sex was free and paid by the government. At first it’s weird - surrounded by men who were all taking turns on fucking multiple girls in the wall that you couldn’t see. But after a while it got easier and Jungkook only was there to cum and go.

Virtual Reality, however, was not free. It costs to have a private room, a girl and the virtual contact lenses to alter reality. You could choose whatever reality you desired for a price - and Jungkook already felt shitty enough about coming here.

“You’re never going to have Y/N unless fate is on your side.” Jimin says. “And fate is on no one side in our world.”

Meaning, Jungkook had to give up on having you chosen as his partner; an act he already gave up on. 

“But just for an hour, you can pretend to be with her. It’ll feel good. I promise.”

Taehyung’s words ring through his ears. He’s done this before, Jungkook thinks. He only has a few months left until he’s set to be married, the woman he once wanted far from his reach.

“Okay.” Jungkook murmurs sullenly.

Jungkook is disgusted with himself already - and even more so. But he was a man and he couldn’t hide what desires he had for you.

All the desires he did have for you were taken out on the woman who’s name or face he did not know - he moaned for you. He called you pretty and beautiful and in his mind, he was fucking you.

Jungkook likes to think that in another world, he and you could be together. That you and he could talk freely without others speculating he was harassing you - a fertile unwed woman. But as of right now, he would pretend he was fucking you and not another woman in the brothel during virtual reality.

Jungkook’s eyes watch the way your face contort with pleasure as he fucks deep into you. There was only an hour until he had to leave and he took full advantage of it. He isn’t sure how many times he came, filling the condom he wore completely - but he never wants to stop. 

Jungkook doesn’t want this reality with you to end - even deep down he knows that this wasn’t real. Those weren’t your moans nor was it your reaction to him but it’s what he has to deal with to feel closer to you.

“Ah, look at you.” Jimin smirks as he eyes Jungkook exiting the room. His eyes are slightly red due to having to remove the contact lenses. “Feel better?”

No, Jungkook thinks, but he only nods his head. 

 “What are you afraid of?”

Jungkook places a hand towards the mirror, his eyes widening as it begins to go through just as it did the night prior. He has to coach himself to do it - this was okay. He could do it - he could make it through the portal just fine.

As long as he was back before 6 am, he was good. No one would have to know that he was committing a crime that could be punishable by death. 

The portal sucks him in completely - it’s dark and cold. Jungkook’s mind races and he opens his mouth to scream, but he can’t. The feeling is as if he’s jumped from a high surface, gravity completely taking a toll on him.

Jungkook falls onto the ground with a thud, his hands not able to catch himself. He releases a low groan at the impact he’s faced crashing to the floor. He grumbles and pushes himself off of the ground. 

Jungkook’s eyes open and it’s then he realizes that he isn’t where he should be. This isn’t his room - even if it was nearly identical. The room had personality - not like the dull one he had back in his world. The ceiling was just as high as his back in his world but the bed is larger. He notices that the headboard - block - has a strange glow behind it and beneath the bed. It glows multiple colors that Jungkook finds fascinating. The large window - where outside displays a large digital clock for not only him, but for the surrounding homes to see - is covered by a long, dark curtain, blocking out the outside world. The closet is on the far right of the room and Jungkook’s curiosity peaks - his world, clothes weren’t expressive. They were bland and more of a uniform that most citizens wore.

Jungkook gasps, having strolled towards the closet and opened it. Even the clothes in this world had personality - different colors and textures. Long, short, tight or loose - it amazes him how people in this world could express themselves freely. 

“Does your girlfriend know you have me here?” a voice sounds from right outside the door that Jungkook leaps into the closet and hides, only sliding the door close a bit to see.

Jungkook is flabbergasted upon seeing himself - or, this new world version of him. Did this man have the same name as him, or was it just a look alike?

“Y/N’s not going to be here tonight.” Jungkook hears his voice and he stiffens. “She’s out with her friends.”

Y/N.

You.

You were in this universe, too. 

You and him - could Jungkook call this different version of this man “him”? Regardless, you and he were together.

You were his girlfriend in this universe.

And he was cheating on you - Jungkook wants to faint at the revelation alone that in this universe he had you. He had you - the person he wanted. There were no rules on sex outside of brothels here - nor did it appear that a government was controlling every aspect of life.

Jungkook had you in this universe - and he was cheating on you.

Jungkook couldn’t stay here any longer and watch himself be with another girl. He wouldn’t notice himself creeping out of the room - it's dimly lit and the only lights are that of the changing colorful ones. He’s slow with opening the door and closing it discreetly behind him.

The rest of the home is just as amazing as the bedroom - full of this version of him. There’s artwork displayed on the walls that catches Jungkook's eyes, but he doesn’t have the time to stop and appreciate it like he wants to because something else catches his eye. It’s in the hallway as he’s walking by.

A picture of you and him - together. You were smiling, arms wrapped firmly around him, your cheek pressed against his own. You looked beautiful; happy. He did, as well.

Jungkook touches the picture - were you different in this universe? Is this why he was cheating on you? There had to be a reason as to why this version of him would go against everything he wanted for one night with a woman when all he wanted was you.

Jungkook hears a muffled voice and his head snaps down the hall where his front door would be. He contemplates running, but he doesn’t. The door opens and his heart stops.

“Kookie.” you tilt your head and offer him a smile and then a confused look. “You’re still up?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say and it’s like his breath was taken away. You’re in front of him - you’re speaking to him.

You called him Kookie.

Your clothes are something he’d never see you wear in his world. Your dress is dark and tightly fitted and it shows a great amount of cleavage. Your skin looks so smooth and soft and his hands tremble to feel it beneath his palm.

“Are you okay?” you take a step forward, your heels clicking against the floor. You reach out to touch his forehead and Jungkook knows now that he isn’t okay. “You don’t feel hot-”

“Y/N.” Jungkook says, and this is his moment. He touches your face fondly, thumb pressing itself against your lips. 

You snicker. “What’s gotten into you?” you ask. “I know I said I would be out all night but I wanted to come home to you.”

Jungkook releases a shaky breath at your words. You wanted to come home to him - but not him, your version of him. The same Jungkook that was cheating on you now and expecting not to see you.

Jungkook doesn’t want that for you - even if this was his last time seeing you in this world. He doesn’t want to be the reason for your pain. “Let’s go out together.”

“Together?” you knit your brows. “Dressed like that?”

Jungkook looks down at his own attire - basic black t-shirt and jeans that would only be acceptable for him to wear at home back in his world - but maybe in this one it was exactly that; basic. 

“I just want to be with you.” Jungkook murmurs truthfully and you smile - a bright smile that causes his heart to sink. He would have to go home eventually, and he wouldn’t be able to see it anymore. 

“Okay.” you nod slowly, taking his hand in yours. “You hungry? We can go to Late Night Slice.”

Jungkook is shocked to see how crowded the streets are. Back in his world, no one was allowed outside past 9 pm. Even during the day, citizens had to walk in a straight line, no more than three people standing side by side. 

It was past curfew but yet here everyone was. People were laughing, littering the streets without a care in the world. There was a melodic tune playing, something he’s never heard before. 

“You act like you’ve never heard music before.”

You say it as though you can read him, Jungkook thinks.  “Music…” he murmurs, trailing off. 

There wasn’t any music where Jungkook was from, and now he’s realizing that his world was Hell compared to this. It was night time but yet, everything was so bright. The laughter from everyone surrounding them, the music - the atmosphere in general. 

Jungkook feels his skin erupt with goosebumps.

“Come,” you yank him lightly to get his attention and you fully have it. You take him to a small shop where only a few people were inside. The smell makes Jungkook’s stomach rumble and his mouth salivate. “I ordered ahead already, so it should be done.”

Order ahead? Jungkook wants to ask what you meant, but he doesn’t want to appear any more dumb than he was when it came to you and this world.

“I can take that.” Jungkook says as you go to grab a large tray of pizza - it smells as delicious as it looks and Jungkook cannot fathom how someone can be open and cook amazingly this late at night. 

“I’ll go get our drinks.” you smile at him brightly that it nearly causes Jungkook to drop the tray of food. “Go find us a table, okay?”

“Yes.” Jungkook nods, licking his lips. He wants to hurt himself - not really. Hurt this version of him. As you and he sit here and eat as a couple, he was cheating on you with another woman - one not worthy of his attention. 

Jungkook finds a table farther from everyone else and sits down, placing the tray of pizza onto the table. He watches from afar as you come back with two drinks in your hands and his lifts form into a small smile.

“What’s funny?” you ask him as you sit down across from him, placing the drink in front of him. 

“I’m not laughing.” Jungkook knits his brows. “You just look very beautiful.”

Jungkooks cheeks are red as he speaks.

You’re taken aback by the compliment. “Ah, really?” you snort. “You only ever call me beautiful when you’re fucking me.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens at your words and his breath hitches. You can speak so freely in this world, he thinks. There doesn’t need to be a hidden conversation of whispers or hushed murmurs. “I-I…” he doesn’t know what to say. On one hand, the thought of him being with you outside of virtual reality has him excited - but the other part of him finds this version of himself highly selfish. He cannot think about only calling you beautiful when he is intimate with you - especially in a world in which he doesn’t have to hide his love. “...You’re very beautiful to me, Y/N. Even outside of…sex.”

You blink a few times, watching Jungkook intently. Slowly, you begin to smile. “Thank you.” you say softly. “I think you’re beautiful, as well, Kookie.” you say teasingly. “Now let’s eat!”

Jungkook never wants to go back to his world. He doesn’t want to leave you behind with the version of him that doesn’t love you. You and he eat and it mainly consists of you talking to him while he listens closely - he isn’t sure of what you are talking about. He isn’t from a world where “clubs” or “bars” are normal - but they seem fun. 

Jungkook takes a sip of the drink you gave him and he immediately coughs. 

“Kookie? You okay?” you rush to place a napkin in his hands.

“W-What is this?” Jungkook smells the clear drink and his eyes widen as it begins to fizzle.

“Sprite…?” you tilt your head. “Does it taste funny?”

Funny wasn’t the word - it tasted strong. He hasn’t tasted anything like this before, the taste feels as if it’s stabbing against his taste buds and fighting against his throat.

It was a weird taste that Jungkook liked.

Jungkook begins to chug the rest of the drink entirely, his body shuddering at the amazing taste. It brings a rush through him.

You watch wide eyed as Jungkook slams the cup down against the table and burp. He places a hand over his mouth at his crude actions. “Excuse-”

“You’re so cute, Kookie!” you laugh at his actions, a sweet melodic laugh that he wants to hear for the rest of his life.

Jungkook finds himself never wanting to leave you, but needing to each time he’s visited and coincidentally managing to not come face to face with himself while doing so.

The first time he had to go through the portal, there was a longing feeling holding him back - the euphoric sense that this new world was better. It was colorful and full of life - returning back to his world left him with deep sorrow. He was coming down from a serotonin high and he realized that each time he did so, he was growing more and more depressed.

But Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to care. He would go through the drop of serotonin if it meant he could see you every night - and each night he did. He would visit you, somehow managing to avoid himself, and have an amazing time with you in this Utopian world. Each night was something different - you took him to midnight festivals that played “music” - an amazing tune with people singing and dancing and it’s something you forced him to do with you.

And Jungkook loved it - he adored dancing with you. He enjoyed being carefree and not feeling judgmental eyes upon him. He tried different foods that his world would never allow, drinks that caused his taste buds to go crazy and such sweet snacks that at times would cause his teeth to hurt.

This utopian world was amazing and each time he would return home, he hated it. He was exhausted from the lack of sleep but wouldn’t stop from returning the next night because it was worth it to get away from his world and to see you.

On his 12th day of returning to the Utopian world, Jungkook isn’t alone. He hears screaming coming from further into the home. He ventures outside of the room stealthy to see what’s wrong - mainly because he hears your voice. It’s strained and filled with pain - as is your appearance when his eyes catch you. His heart drops when his eyes catch your face - you’re crying, a black streak streaming down your cheeks. It’s makeup he now knows, having watched you put on the products and astonished when it enhances your beauty even more.

“Where are you planning on going, Y/N?” Jungkook hears his voice say, his tone far too aggressive for his liking. “You live here. With me.”

“You had another woman in the same bed that I sleep in Jungkook.”

Jungkook sighs to himself, his heart falling once more. It was a matter of time until you found out, he thinks. It wasn’t something he wanted to happen for you - you were someone he loved, even if he wasn’t from this world. He wanted you to be happy and live an amazing life, even if it wasn’t with him but with the version of him that didn’t deserve you.

Jungkook watches you push him away with a huff when he tries to bring you closer to him.

“Fine.” Jungkook then shrugs with a scoff. “I’m leaving. If you want to pack everything and leave then you can. But I’m not forcing you to go.”

You snicker with a shake of your head at the audacity of Jungkook.

“You’re going to throw everything away because of one mistake?”

“Was it only once?” you ask him with folded arms. You’re waiting for him to respond to the question you know the answer to already. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.”

You feel Jungkook’s eyes watch you storm away. He bites back a remark and instead decides to let you cool off. You weren’t going to leave him - where would you even go? You didn’t have anyone but him.

Jungkook watches himself leave out the front door, slamming it behind him as you’re making your way towards the bedroom. Jungkook saunters back inside the bedroom and hides inside the closet, a sense of deja vu coming through him.

You slam through the door and fall onto the large bed. You’re crying again and the sound makes Jungkook want to hurt this world's version of him.

An affair wasn’t allowed in his world and it’s a punishable offense. Of course, very few men loved their wives that they’re set upon and vice versa. Only few come to love one another - but it’s rare. He had to look at his own parents as evidence of this. As he and you would walk the busy streets the past weeks, he noticed people of all ages and genders together - two older couples sitting side by side enjoying one another's company. Two men holding one another while taking pictures - it’s nice to see and experience.

This version of Jungkook didn’t deserve you or this world, he thinks - he took it for granted.

“Y/N.”

You flinch at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Your eyes widen at him, not hearing him come in. “W-Why are you in the closet?”

Jungkook swallows.

“And when did you change…?” your words trail off, hands wiping your tears.

“I’m sorry that he hurt you.” Jungkook murmurs, his tone lowering. His eyes are sad, you note, sad for you. He comes closer, his demeanor soft unlike the cocky and narcissistic one of that prior.

You stand to your feet and tilt your head, your eyes focusing on his face. “You just got a piercing earlier.” you murmur, more to yourself than to Jungkook. “Where did it go?”

Jungkook stiffens when he feels your fingers on his lips. His hand reaches up to touch yours on his face and he sighs. “I hate the way he treats you, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Your head is spinning at Jungkook’s choice of words. You’re confused at how he’s wording everything - as if he’s a third person in this situation.

“Kookie…?”

Jungkook kisses your fingers then your hand. “I wish I could stay here with you. Forever.”

You aren’t sure how to feel, your emotions are spiraling. Jungkook speaks as if everything that went down between the two of you hasn’t happened - and your mind is beginning to fog; contemplating if it did or not.

“I’m not from here, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks once more, lowering your hand to your side and entangling his fingers with yours. “I wish I was so I could treat you better than him. I wouldn’t take you or this world for granted.”

You don’t speak, unable on what to say in response. You aren’t crying anymore, your cheeks stained with tears and puffy.

Jungkook tugs you deeper into the room and towards the mirror by the closet. You’re unsure what’s going on and where he’s getting at.

Jungkook’s sure he might regret this - that you would be freaked out to the point that you wouldn’t want to talk with him anymore, but he had to show you.

Jungkook stops in front of the mirror and turns towards you. He lifts your hand that’s holding his and slowly, brings it towards the mirror.

Your eyes widen in shock when your hand sinks into the mirror, a cold, windy feeling causing your hand to tremble.

“J-Jungkook-”

“I’m from a different world. I was just as scared as you are right now.” Jungkook says, bringing your hand out of the mirror and letting it go. His hands grasp your face. “I came here and everything's so…euphoric. It’s nice that everyone is accepting. There’s no strict rules enforced by the government to control you all.”

Jungkook’s thumb rubs along your lips.

“You…in my world you and I can never be together. Not unless the Government allowed it and I’m positive they aren’t. You are free to be in love with whoever you want here, Y/N. And I’m sorry this version of me is taking you for granted.”

Your heart is beating at an alarming rate. Your eyes are wide with shock at his words.

This Jungkook was not your Jungkook - not the man who cheated on you and left without as much as acknowledging your feelings. This Jungkook came from a different world - and as unbelievable as it sounded, it was true.

“Why can’t we be together?” you murmur, still unsure if this was reality or a dream - everything felt real at this point.

“The Government chooses who we marry based on ranking and status.” Jungkook explains. “You’re a woman who can bear children, so you’ll be married to someone of their choosing.”

Your eyebrows knit. “Why does it matter if I can bear children or not?”

Jungkook smiles sadly at you. “Barren women cannot be married.” He recalls wishing that you and he were both barren, then maybe the Government would see the two of you as useless and allow him to marry you - but life wasn’t that cruel to either of you.

“It must be a cruel world.” you murmur, and Jungkook agrees. “How long have you…”

Jungkook knows what you’re speaking of. “Close to two weeks. I’ve been coming to you every night.”

Your eyes widened and now, everything made sense. How Jungkook - well, not the one before you, but the other one - would be confused about the night prior, but you’d just thought he was either faking or too tired to. But no, you and this Jungkook from a different world were the one spending it together.

This is why the connection between the two of you suddenly has changed. It became bearable to be around Jungkook. He smiled and laughed more. He was willing to hold your hand wherever the two of you went and would sneak kisses at random times. He took more pictures with you and appeared overall happier than before.

But it wasn’t the Jungkook you know - it was a different version of him.

You snicker, your eyes swelling with tears.

Jungkook shakes his head. “I-I’m sorry for taking advantage of you, Y/N. Please don’t cry-”

You hand your head. “I’m not upset with you, Jungkook.” you say, blinking away the tears that are forming. “I’m upset that you and I can never be together because you aren’t from this world.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens at your words.

“And I…I can’t go to your world, either.” You didn’t want to, Jungkook thinks. He doesn’t want to see your demeanor and personality change if you went to a world so different from this one.

“I’m sorry-”

Jungkook is interrupted suddenly by your lips on his. He’s taken aback by your sudden actions, but he doesn’t push you awake.

“If there’s a world,” you remove your lips from his for a moment. “that is an alternate realm where you and I are in, that means…he can’t die.”

Jungkook isn’t sure where you’re getting at.

“Jungkook can’t die because then you’ll die.” you say, your hand caressing Jungkook’s cheek. “I-I don’t think you and he can be in the same world, either. It would probably cause some type of unbalance.”

Jungkook nods. “The in between opens at 12. I make sure I’m back before 6.”

You nod slowly.

“I want you to stay with me, Jungkook.” you murmur to him, as if it was a secret that only he can hear. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

Jungkook nods his head, doe-like eyes widening. “I do,” he admits. “but I don’t think-”

“SShh,” you peck him on his lips once more and Jungkook melts into the kiss. “we have a few hours before we can figure out what to do. I just want you to stay with me.”

Jungkook nods.

Kissing you had to be his favorite thing to do. And touching you, feeling your smooth skin against his palm.

Your back hits against the bed, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. This Jungkook was different from the one you’ve known. He was gentle and kind. He cared for your feelings and truly wanted what was best for you.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.” Jungkook manages to push himself away from you just as your hand dips underneath his pants. “You’re already hurting from what he’s done to you.”

“You aren’t like him.” It’s weird to speak of a different version of himself as if it was a whole different person with a different face. “I want to be with you.”

Your hands do make their way into his pants and you proceed to grasp his hardened length. Jungkook hisses. “O-Okay.” he nods hastily with no other argument. He caves far too easily - but he’s wanted you for so long. The virtual reality he had was an embarrassing moment he wanted to forget - but now he was going to have the real thing. The real you.

“I-I want to pleasure you.” Jungkook’s cheeks are tinted as he speaks, but it’s like a dream of his. Coming from a world where pleasuring a woman (before marriage) isn’t a priority, he wants to do this - especially with you.

Jungkook kisses your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that starts to drive him wild. His hands roam your body, grasping the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs, his lips kissing down your collarbone to between your breasts.”So beautiful and all mine.”

Jungkook doesn’t want this moment to end - he wants to savor every bit of it. He wants to sit and stare at the beauty that’s your body for hours if the universe would let him.

You feel Jungkook's hand dip behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s left discarded, his hands roaming your back entirely. He shudders.

“You look scared.” you teased with a hushed tone. “As if you have never done this before.”

“I’m not married, so no, I have not.” Jungkook speaks. “Every man goes to the brothel but that isn’t pleasurable for the woman. I don’t even see their faces.”

You swallow, your eyes widening slightly.

“My friends often come here, too…” Jungkook begins, his hands slowly gripping your breast in the palm of his hands. “...and they told me how free it was here. What they’d do when they were pleasuring women here.”

Jungkook’s friends - you ponder if it’s the same friends in his world that Jungkook has in this one.

“And I want to try it.”

You yelp when you feel Jungkook’s mouth wrap a nipple into his mouth entirely, suckling as if his life depended on it. You weren’t complaining, enjoying just how needy Jungkook appeared. Jungkook groans in your breast, his free hand gripping your breast entirely while he sucks on the other. He’s unsure why he appears so stuck on your breast - or why he enjoys doing so. They didn’t have a particular taste to them - it only tasted like skin.

Jungkook’s positive that it’s your reaction to him doing so. Your moans - so sweet and velvety. The way your legs wrap around his waist a little tighter and your hand rests on the back of his head.

There’s a string of saliva connecting your nipple to his lips when Jungkook finally comes up from them. He licks his lips, eyes dark and full of lust.

You eye Jungkook has his lips place warm kisses upon your skin, dipping down to your stomach. His hands reach your shorts, tugging them down just as he gets lower and lower.

“Y-You don’t have to do that.” you say, embarrassed when Jungkook pulls down your shorts entirely.

Jungkook looks up at you for a moment before down at your exposed underwear - purple and cotton. They were cute, he thinks, especially as he witnesses the slight wet spot directly in the middle of them.

“Why not?” Jungkook places his fingers on your clothed clit, rubbing gently.

You swallow back a moan, thighs twitching. “Y-You never have…not you but. The other Jungkook.”

Jungkook wants to shake his head. The audacity of this other version of him - if he had the chance to ravish you at every given moment, he would. He didn’t understand why this world took everything for granted - being allowed to roam the streets after 9 Pm was a luxury alone that this world provided.

“But I want to.” Jungkook hooks his fingers between your panties and pushes it aside. He licks his lips at your wet clit and he hums. “So beautiful.” he murmurs.

Jungkook lowers himself to your heat and your eyes widen - he was really going to do this. You don’t have time to react, either. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and it’s already swiping along your clit.

“S-Stop…!” you yelp, jerking at the unfamiliar feeling.

Jungkook catches your legs just as they were about to crush him. “Relax, Y/N.” he laughs gleefully. “Just let me take care of you, okay?”

You bite your lip but nod. Your legs are trembling with nerves and slight embarrassment at how close Jungkook was to your sex - vaginas couldn’t look that appealing for him to appear ready to risk it all at just a taste of it.

But to Jungkook, it was. His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he holds you into place, his tongue flat and his head shifting from side to side.

Your stomach bubbles with tension and pleasure. You aren’t aware that something like this could feel good for you - you imagined it whenever you went down on Jungkook, but there was a difference between the two genitalia.

Now, it was like Jungkook was getting rid of an itch you never knew was there. You couldn’t contain your moans any longer, nor did he want you to. There was no pleasuring any women from the brothel and in the end, even after he came, he could never feel truly satisfied with himself.

Now, it’s different. It’s more intimate - pleasuring you the way he wants to. His demeanor changes entirely from that of the soft man she’s come to love to be around - to a man hungry for what's between her legs.

“K-Kookie!” you yelp once more at feeling fingers pierce through your entrance. Even then, he doesnt stop sucking your clit.

Jungkook hums, the vibration felt throughout your lower region. His eyes dart up at you and it causes him to groan. So beautiful, he thinks. The look of pure bliss on your face, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure shoots through you.

Jungkook leans back to watch intently at the way your pussy tightens around his fingers. He pumps in and out, your juices coating not only his fingers, but down his palm and to his wrists.

“I wish I can stay here with you forever.” Jungkook says, adding another finger to fill you even more. “I would treat you better. I would never make you cry.”

Jungkook is such a smooth talker, you think . But even so, you believed him. His eyes are much softer and even now as he’s fucking his fingers inside of you, he’s still so loving.

“Kook - shit!” Jungkook connects his lips back onto your already swollen clit and is determined to make you cum.

Your hands grip along the bedsheets, your thighs trembling. It was all too much to handle right now. Each time your hips would buck, Jungkook would just push you back down onto the mattress and plunge his fingers even deeper.

“I know you’re about to cum.” Jungkook purrs, then goes back to lapping your clit, his eyes watching your every emotion. His fingers are hitting your spot so sweetly that you can’t hold it back anymore, releasing the tension from deep inside of you with a shriek.

Jungkook’s chest is soaked entirely, but he couldn’t care any less. Instead, he removes his fingers from inside of you and licks them clean.

Your thighs are trembling even more now, your eyes closing and your chest heaving in an attempt to catch your breath.

There was no way Jungkook never done this before. Even from a different world, Jungkook had to have some similar characteristics of the other Jungkook - determined to make you cum regardless if it was never his mouth or tongue, not stopping until he had.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks you, kissing your lips gently. You tasted yourself on him.

You hum a lazy response.

“So cute.” Jungkook smiles. “Are you tired? Hungry? “ he tilts his head for a response. “I can go get those sugar things you like with the chocolate filling-“

“I want you to fuck me before we think about eating.” you sigh, tone serious. Your eyes flutter open until they’re no longer blurry.

Jungkook’s cheek flush at your words. “You don’t even look like you’re capable of-“

Jungkook’s left stunned when you manage to flip him on his back, hovering right above him. “Just needed a few seconds is all.” you say to him. “I really want to taste you, too but…I’m really impatient.”

Jungkook nods hastily as you go to remove his pants.

“I will next time. Promise.”

Jungkook isn’t upset about you not returning the favor - he didn’t expect you to. Having the opportunity to do anything with you was what he truly desired.

“Don’t we need some form of protection?” Jungkook asks when you’re hovering above him, ready to bring him into you entirely.

“I’m on birth control.” You shake your head with a giggle and Jungkook only appears more confused.

“What’s that?”

You tilt your head. “There’s no birth control in your world?”

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, trying to ponder how anyone can control something like-

Jungkook gasps, feeling you entirely. You’re so warm and wet and his mind is going crazy at feeling you entirely raw.

“The chances of getting pregnant are low when on birth control.” you explain, placing both of your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. “So it should be okay.”

Jungkook was going to take your word for it. His hands find your waist and it holds on it for support.

Your hips begin to rise and fall at a rhythmic pace, wet skin slapping against his own. Soon moans filled the room, both yours and his - and Jungkook wasn’t going to hide how good you were making him feel.

“Feel…so…good…” Jungkook huffs with each bounce on his cock. His eyes fight to focus on something for longer than a few seconds, but he can’t. Your breast bounces in his face and he tries to catch a nipple but fails a few times. Your face is so beautiful, contorted with pleasure as you take him.

“Does it?”

You lean back, your palms on his thighs. Your feet are pressed firmly onto the mattress and you continue your bouncing.

Jungkook hisses, the next position allowing him to go a bit deeper in you. You knew what you were doing, knowing exactly how to pleasure him just right. Jungkook wants to harm the other version of him - how could you go elsewhere when everything he needed was right here?

Jungkook opens his eyes to look at you and he grunts all over again. Your pussy is dripping all over him, creaming his cock so lovingly. There’s a white ring around his cock, evident of how much you were loving this.

“You’re so-“

“Beautiful?” you finished the sentence for Jungkook, giggling. You clench around him and Jungkook hisses.

“It’s true. You are.”

Your heart swells at his words - they aren’t just sex words. Often he would tell you how beautiful he thought you were and of course you were smitten. You thought it was your Jungkook, not this new Jungkook from a different world.

Jungkook allows his hands to roam your naked skin, goosebumps running along his arms. He hisses with a slight shake of his head. “You’re too g-good at this.”

“So were you.” you giggle, grinding against him. “Surprised you never pleasured a girl before.”

“I learn fast.” Jungkook licks his lips, pressing a thumb against your swollen clit, satisfied when you flinch.

While Jungkook's right hand plays with your clit, his left places itself on your ass and squeezes.

Jungkook flickers his eyes up st your face to find that you’re already looking at him. He gives a slight grin - the thrust upwards.

“Fuck, s-stop!” your body flushes with heat. “I was supposed to make you cum this time!”

“You are.” Jungkook hooks both of his arms beneath your thighs and then on your hips to keep you steady. “This birth control means I can cum in you?”

You bite your lip and nod and that's all the confirmation Jungkook needs.

Jungkook begins to pound into you, his pace entirely alarming and there's no build up to it. All he knows is that he’s wanted you for as long as he could remember and in this world he had you - you and whatever birth control was.

Soon the room is filled with wet squelching of your pussy being stuffed so full mixed with Jungkook’s grunts and your whimpers. Your arms wrap around Jungkook’s neck for support and this has Jungkook peppering your skin with kisses.

Jungkook doesn’t stop his pounding, not even when you're trembling and scratching along his back. He only snickers at your actions, far too enthralled in this moment that he doesn’t care what pain you might cause him.

“I-I don’t think-“

“Sshhh,” Jungkook presses his lips on yours to silence your whining. His teeth clap on your bottom lip, tugging slightly. “I know you can take it, baby.”

You came - an embarrassing moment for you. You didn’t hold in the shriek as you do so and it was entirely Jungkook’s fault - his insane stamina, his soft kisses on your skin and the dark whisper of a pet name.

Jungkook groans, your cum dripping out of you and onto him entirely. He could never get enough of you and each thrust has him hating the version of him that left you here crying.

“Gonna cum,” Jungkook huffs, kissing your face entirely. Your eyes are closed tightly and a few whimpers are releasing from your lips due to the overstimulation.

You clench around him as tight as you could to get Jungkook to cum and it works. A few sloppy thrusts and a deep moan later, Jungkook’s cumming deep inside of you - a wave of emotion shudders through his body.

You fall limp against Jungkook while your eyes flutter close. “So tired.” you murmur.

Jungkook places a kiss upon your forehead. “You don’t want those sugar things with the filling?”

You grumble, “It sounds like you want them.”

Jungkook does.

“I’ll put an order for them to be delivered.” you lift yourself and sigh. “How about you just take my phone and go get it? You remember the way?”

Jungkook nods his head and soon, you’re sleeping soundly on the bed.

Jungkook licks his lips as he gets dressed. Currency was different in your world. Though he worked, there was only a certain amount he could ever earn from his job, the rest went towards whatever the Government saw fit - funding the brothel and new technology to advance the world. Even being able to go somewhere and eat was a luxury - it was something the Government also controlled; when and how they got their food.

Jungkook opens the door to the room and stops dead in his tracks.

Jungkook blinks at the familiar face of himself. There’s a piercing on his eyebrow and lip and it causes Jungkook to tilt his head at it.

“What the fuck-“

Jungkook reacts entirely too fast, even before his mind can think of what to do. He watches as the version of himself falls back and holds his nose, blood pooling from his hand.

“You don’t belong here.” Jungkook murmurs , his voice dangerously low. “You don’t deserve her.”

Jungkook is surprised that you don’t awake - maybe you were that exhausted. He doesn’t stop punching until the version of him is unconscious and he’s covered in an alarming amount of blood.

Jungkook huffs. He grabs the versions of him arms and begins to drag him inside the room. He glances at your sleeping figure and feels an emotion go through him. He wants to love you the way you deserve - to care for you like he should be able to.

And with this Jungkook here, he never could.

Jungkook pushes towards the mirror, the ripple effect telling him that there was still time.

There’s a moan - he was waking up. Jungkook curses mentally to himself and pushes as hard as he could to this world’s Jungkook until he’s fully through the mirror.

Now, all he had to do was wait until it was time for the portal to be closed.

Jungkook’s eyes open, shooting straight up. His eyes look around his surroundings - where the fuck was he?

This wasn’t his room - no, it couldn’t be. It was so dull, dark. Plain - where were the lights he had on his bed? Where were the mirrors he placed up?

Jungkook’s eyes the large window outside, noticing that lights were peaking through. There was a digital clock flashing red numbers. He shakes his head. “What the hell…?”

Jungkook turns towards the mirror in front of him, eyes wide as it begins to crack. He shields himself with his hands as mirror pieces begin to fly on him suddenly, the mirror breaking out of thin air.

Jungkook releases a deep breath, hammer in hand. His chest heaves, the mirror shards surrounding him entirely.

“Kookie?!”

You run inside the room, head flailing around to see what the commotion was. “How did the mirror…” your eyes glance down to the hammer in Jungkook’s hands.

It was now 6 A.M, Jungkook notes, and it was time for his world to wake and go on with their lives - without him.

“I thought you said you were gonna go shower?” Jungkook drops the hammer and turns towards you. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

You sigh, shoulders relaxing. “It’s okay.” you say. “Is…is the portal gone?”

Jungkook nods his head, for now at least. He’s positive there was a way for him to return through a different mirror - but he had no intentions to. As long as the Utopian world Jungkook didn’t know how to return, he was satisfied.

“Good.” you smile at Jungkook, a genuine smile that warms his heart.

Good - it was good. Now Jungkook could have you like he always has - no strict rules, no Government forcing him to marry a woman he didn’t want.

Just you and him - you & this Jungkook - forever.

@seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @babycandy111

[propertyofyoutube]

I HAVE A REQUEST

So the fic could be a Sam X reader, and it starts with just pure smut and him being dominant, then after right, the reader Is laying in bed and Sam's editing. The reader takes out her phone and does the trend 'this man just took my ability to walk and now he's editing' and the reader, who is publicly dating, posts it and it gets millions of view and likes and Sam gets a notification too and he opens it to see that, and then he stops editing and starts cuddling the reader, ending the fic in fluff or smut, your choice. Sam could also ask at the end 'you happy now?'

Are you happy now? - EXPLICIT

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, dom!sam, controlling during sex, rough but passionate, angry!sam, creampie, oral, gagging, pure filth and love. Oh and bad language lol.

Not edited.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

You sat peacefully on the sofa in yours and Sam's shared bedroom, happily scrolling through your TikTok foryou page. You suddenly came across an edit of you and Sam. Your eye fell wide as you watched the skills of the talented fans, highlighted moments in your relationship in the most amazing way. You and Sam had been public for almost 2 years now, and it still was hard for you to see yourself in this way. Something you'd probably never get used to. As you watched the quickly changing clips your heart dropped as you saw a text message from Colby drop down the top of your screen.

Colbs: yooo, warning! Shitty day, Sam's pretty angry about this last meeting...

You: oh fuck... is he okay? Are you okay? When you say angry, like shouting angry or silent angry?

Your thumb twiddled across your keyboard as you watched Colby's typing bubble show up. You wasn't sure which you'd prefer right now. Shouting angry Sam meant he would probably have to offload his stress on you with a monologue of curse words and exaggerated arm movements. But silent angry Sam, could be two things; 1- headphones on/movie on and cuddling in silence, 2- breaking your back in an outburst of dominance and frustration, most perfect stress reliever. Lowkey, you were hoping for the latter.

Colbs: I'm okay, Sam will probably explain it to you... but let's just say he hasn't said a word since he started driving home...

You: right okay... thanks for the heads up x

You sighed after texting Colby back. You hated when Sam had a shit day, it killed you to see him upset, and we're always willing to do whatever it took to make him feel better.

>>>>>>>>>

It had only been 20 minute you were waiting, still sat on the sofa, before you heard the front door open. You waited nervously as you closed your phone placing it down beside you. You could hear Colby's voice muffling in the background and suddenly the sound of footsteps making their climb up the staircase. You knew those angry footsteps anywhere.

You took a deep breath as the bedroom door opened and Sam walked in, throwing his bag down quickly, his jaw clenched and his fists stiff.

"Hey baby, are you okay?" You asked, trying to make it seem like Colby hadn't already told you that he wasn't okay.

Sam instantly began to take off his jacket, your eyes fell wide as his gaze met yours as he walked further into the room. You knew that look anywhere. His hands quickly unbuckled his belt as you felt your stomach do a flip and your heat twitch. “Clothes off. Now.” He spoke firmly as your eyes fell wide with both concern and excitement. “I need you.” Sam said his voice shaking with so much emotion.

You instantly stood up and began to remove your clothes your heart beating fast. As you quickly managed to strip completely naked, you looked up to see Sam, his expression softening ever so slightly at the view of you. “Fuck me…” he said, his voice low. “Get over here now.” He said firmly.

You bit your lip in anticipation as you began to head over to him. Sam stepped forward meeting you halfway as he crashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was instantly hot and passionate. His hands wandering around your body.

“I’ve had… such a shitty day…” Sam mumbled against your lips as his grip on your skin deepened.

“I know baby…” you whispered back between kisses.

“All I thought about… was you..” he continued, as he suddenly tugged on your hair, pulling your head back earning a moan from you. “And taking all my frustrations out on that perfect little pussy of yours…” Sam suddenly bit on your lip as his voice sent shivers down your body. “Do you want me to feel better baby?” He asked, his voice low.

“Uh huh…” you managed to squeeze out through moans.

You felt as Sam smirked against your lips, he quickly moved to near your ear as he spoke firmly, “then be a good girl, and get on those knees.” As he suddenly nibbled on your ear your eyes rolled back as you nodded.

Without question, you instantly dropped to your knees, his throbbing cock now directing in your eye line. “Don’t make me ask again.” Sam said with a smirk across his face. You smiled back up at him as you licked your lips, his hand grazing across your chin.

You quickly grabbed his cock as Sam’s jaw slacked open. Your eyes gazing up at him as you suddenly took the head of his dick into your mouth. Sam moaned low as you swirled your tongue around. “Fuck baby… if you don’t stop teasing me… I’ll fuck the back of your throat until you gag.” You loved this side of Sam. When his dominant side really shines through, the control he has turned you on more than anything.

You obeyed and quickly began to bob your head back and forth, taking as much as you could whilst stroking the rest of him.

“Fuck… that’s it baby girl.” Sam spoke between groans.

You couldn’t help but smile, you always felt proud of yourself when Sam praised you like this. His hand stroking the back of your head and the feeling of your lips surrounding his cock making both of you melt.

Suddenly Sam started to buck his hips slightly, you could tell his desperate for more. You looked up at him as you suddenly opened up your mouth wider, giving him permission to take over. He quickly looked down at you with his eyes full of love as they suddenly turned much darker and he bit his lip, grabbing the back of your head with both hands suddenly began to face fuck you. “Atta girl!” Sam groaned deeply as his cock hit the back of your throat. Again and again. Sam held his cock there for a moment as your eyes began to water and you couldn’t help but gag.

“Fuck…” Sam groaned as he pulled out slowly. Allowing you to catch your breath. After a moment, the air back in your lungs, he pushed his dick straight back in, repeating the same steps. As you gagged once more, he pulled out once again as he breathed heavily. “Fuck baby, come here.” He demanded as you stood up wiping drool from your chin.

“Jump.” He said firmly as you quickly hopped up, his hands grabbing your legs as they wrapped around his waist.

You couldn’t help but let out a squeal of excitement as he threw you onto the bed. He immediately followed you as he hovered his body above yours. He reconnected your lips in another moment of passion as he took his hand, moving it down along your body until it reached your heat. As Sam’s fingers found your clit and began to rub in fast circles, you moaned against his lips as he kissed you. Your back arched off the bed as your soaking core finally had some relief. But you wanted more, you needed him, you needed to feel him inside of you.

“You… are the only thing… that gets me through the day.” Sam groaned as he kissed down to your neck, rubbing faster.

“D-don’t stop baby…” you cried out, your head throwing back in pleasure. That knot forming in your stomach as you bucked your hips against his hand.

“What happened to your manners?” Sam said firmly, as his hand slowly lowered its speed.

Your jaw fell wide open as that ache returned, “p-please Sam. Please, just fuck me.” You begged as a smirk formed on Sam’s face.

“Be careful what you wish for…” Sam said catching you off guard as he suddenly took his cock, pushing it deep inside of you with no warning. Both of you simultaneously moaning loudly.

As Sam began to thrust in and out of you, your hands gripped onto his back as you slowly dragged your nails down, earning an even deeper groan from Sam. The knot in your stomach quickly reformed as you were now desperate to feel that release of pleasure. “Fuck Sam.” You moaned out as Sam felt your walls clench around him. Suddenly he lifted himself off you slightly as he began to pound into you, deeper and faster as your legs began to shake.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Sam spoke with demand on his voice.

His speed consistent as you felt it build up quickly, until it suddenly exploded. Your whole body filled from top to bottom with a rush of passion and pleasure. “Sam!” You cried out as Sam felt you cum all over him. Sam’s thrusts slowed down slightly as he rode out your high before pulling out of you. He quickly raised onto his knees.

“Turn over.” He demanded, the way his voice changed with his dominance was breathtaking. You obliged immediately flipping over as you tried to catch your breath.

Sam bit his lip as he began to tease your entrance with his cock. “If only… my employees could be as obedient as you…” he spoke as his heart pounded, remembering why he was so angry.

“Please Sammy…” you begged, your body now becoming more exhausted but ready for more.

“As you wish, princess.” Sam said as he quickly pushed himself back inside of you, hitting your g-spot instantly in your still sensitive core.

“Oh shit..” you gasped as he pulled back out before pushing deep inside of you once again. Sam groaned lower than ever as he began to pick up his speed with each thrust. His hips smacking loudly against your ass, loud enough for the neighbours to hear as he pounded into you.

“Fuck y/n…” Sam groaning your name sent shivers throughout your entire body. Suddenly, Sam leaned forward grabbing both of your hands as he pulled them behind your back, allowing your chest to fall onto the bed. “I’m gonna split you in half.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yes baby!” You cried out as Sam pinned your arms by the wrist to your lower back and he instantly sped up once again, his dick deeper inside of you with each powerful thrust. “Fuck fuck fuck!” You cried out as the side of your face rested on the mattress.

“Fuck, I’m close baby.” Sam groaned as he refused to lay off. “Cum with me, okay?” He said as you whined nodding your head, unable to form words.

“Good girl.” Sam praised once again allowing that knot to instantly form, quickly expanding in your stomach. You both became moaning messes as his pounded you to your limit.

“Fuck now, y/n!” He practically shouted as a string of curse words left both of your mouths. Your walls clenched around him, as you came all over his cock. Quickly followed by his hot cum filling you up entirely.

Sam’s thrusts slowed down, riding out both of your highs, until he slowly pulled out. His hot cum spilling out after him. “Are you okay?” Sam quickly asked, it was rare he was that hard on you, and he always needed to make sure you were okay.

“Uh huh…” you nodded with a smile as you breathed heavily, your heart pounding out of your chest.

Sam suddenly leaned down, kissing your cheek gently, as he moved your hair out of your face. “Why don’t you go take a shower baby?” Sam suggested before kissing you on the lips, much more sweet than before.

You nodded your head sloppily as your energy had gone from 100 to 0.

“I’ll be right here, waiting when you get back.” Sam said with a smile as you kissed him once more.

>>>>>>>>>

The shower was exactly what you needed after that. However, your legs were weak, and it was truly a challenge to stay stood up right whilst you washed. But, you managed to pull through.

As you walked back into the room, you looked at the bed to see Sam not there. You sighed slightly, as knowing this boy, he probably was working once again. Even after such a shitty day. Once you put on your pjs and brushed your hair, you left the bedroom and walked down the hallway, stopping at Sam and Colby’s shared office. As you peeped around the door, you saw Sam, headphones on, clicking away. You smiled as you watched the concentration on his face, however, this bitch promised to be waiting for you for a cuddle. You leaned on the door frame as you lifted your arm, knocking 3 times. Sam’s eyes quickly darted to the door as he lifted one side of his headphones away from his ear.

“Hey baby, I just thought I’d start editing next months video.” He said as he smiled at you. You smiled back with a sigh as you rested your head on the frame.

“Tonight?” You said with sadness in your voice.

Sam sighed as he glanced at his screen and then back at you, “just 15 minutes, I promise…” he said softly, which you knew full well would turn out to be a lie.

“Okay…” you said with a smile as he smiled back with so much love and appreciation on his face for you. After the pounding you had, you truly did just want him to hold you, you never really was one for much aftercare, but you felt so exhausted you just wanted to be with him.

You scrunched your face up, trying to think of a way to get him to bed, but unfortunately nothing came to you. You took a deep breath once again, as you looked over at him, his eyes glued to the screen as he clicked away. You took out your phone as snapped a video of him editing away. You chuckled to yourself as you walked back to the bedroom.

As you climbed into bed, you headed straight onto TikTok, immediately opening to another edit of yourself and sam. Which immediately gave you a bright idea. You bit your lip mischievously as you selected the video of Sam editing. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you joined the TikTok trend by typing, ‘man just blew my back out and now he’s editing🤔’ and added a sound. You paused for moment before hitting post, unsure of how Sam would take you posting this, but also knowing that the fans would absolutely love it. As you battled with yourself for a moment, the fans won. The fans will always win. You hit post and within 3 seconds, the comments, likes and shares started rolling in. Your phone going crazier than usual.

As Sam felt his eyes falling heavy, he already wanted to call it quits after 5 minutes. He just wanted to be with you, holding you after such a long day but such an amazing night. ‘Just one more clip’ he thought to himself but he suddenly noticed his phone flashing like crazy, as much as when they post a new Sam and Colby video. He frowned confused for a moment, as he removed his headphones picking up his phone. His mouth and eyes simultaneously fell wide as he watched your TikTok and the read the comments as they continued to roll on. The corners of his mouth slowly began to turn upwards as a smile spread across his face.

Almost 5 minutes had passed and you continued to scroll through your foryou page. You weren’t even sure if Sam had seen the video, so when he appeared in the bedroom, you kept your eyes on your phone as you spoke, trying your best to hold in a laugh, “finished so soon babe?” You asked with innocence in your voice.

Sam continued to walk across the room before climbing into bed beside you. He grabbed your phone out of your hands, locking it and putting it back down as he lifted his arm up over your head, signalling for you to cuddle him.

You looked up at him with a smile as you wiggled yourself into his arms. He squeezed tightly as he kissed your head and you exhaled deeply in a sigh of relaxation.

“Are you happy now?” Sam asked with a chuckle.

You gazed up at him with a mischievous smirk across your face, “I’ve never felt happier.”

Sam glared at you but he simply couldn’t resist that smile and those eyes, “it’s a good job I love you more than anything.” He said as he made himself more comfortable.

“It’s a good job I’m incredibly patient.” You said sarcastically knowing you are the completely opposite.

Sam looked at you his eyebrows raised, “hmm, so patient!” He laughed as you suddenly leaned up kissing him deeply.

As you pulled away he looked deep into your eyes as you spoke, “I love you more.” You said softly as Sam smiled, pulling you in and connecting your lips once again.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Authors note: hey guys, I hope you enjoyed this one! I know I enjoyed writing it! Make sure to leave your requests! 🖤

[radio-fmm]

2 am bathroom meeting

Law x reader

comfort & fluff | 1k words

Masterlist

Your reflection meets you and it’s like you don’t even recognize yourself, your eyeliner smudged, cheeks red and warm, eyes tired and your skin pale as a ghost. You frown, shake your head as if disappointed by it.

A big sigh is all it takes for you to try and keep it together. You are not ok, but that’s ok, you’re used to it. This feeling, heart aching, pounding headache and swollen eyes from crying is part of the journey, of your adventure as a Heart Pirate in this world, so you go trough it even if it means crying at 2 am.

You open the faucet and cold water splashes in your hands, the feeling strangely brings you back to earth, you stretch your hands like a bowl letting the droplets accumulate so you can dump them in your face. As you’re halfway trough it, the door of the bathroom opens loudly beside you. You stumble at the noise, dropping the water on yourself as a very scared looking Trafalgar Law stands just witnessing your misfortune

“Shit I didn’t heard you in here” you steal a glance at your Captain, too sleep deprived to even think about closing the door and leave you be. He also does a run over your form, which keeps him standing at the door

There’s a moment of silence, where you scrunch your face and rub your eyes as annoyance stirs along with your sadness, a terrible terrible feeling while Law stays puzzled. Why were you up at this ungodly hour looking so… wrecked?

“It’s fine I’ll just leave” you finally break the silence, you dry your hands hastily before anything more embarrassing happens but your Captain beats you to it

“Are you ok?”

You scoff- “Clearly not”

Law is not the type to ask this type of questions, you regret the tone in your answer immediately after, guilt visibly in your expression. You don’t want to push him away but right now, you’re not quite yourself and you’ll regret saying something you don’t want to.

Law stays still, eyebrows furrowed. He hates this, not you, but your clear terrible state. But what he hates the most is how he doesn’t really know what to do to help you

You sigh again and walk to the door expecting your Captain to move, but he doesn’t. His face stays reading you, in thought

You rise an eyebrow “Are you ok?, Captain?”

You are both awkward

Law’s body is tense, your eyes keep looking over his head as you hold back tears because this ordeal is making you think about everything again, but you don’t want to talk about it.

The surgeon then pulls a move so unexpected that it has you gasping. He walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him, arms crossed and brows still furrowed

“If you think I’m gonna let you out of here like nothing happened you’re insane”

He cares, he really does. You know better than anyone else that under his mean captain facade he adored his crew, he cared for everyone and seeing you like this was also breaking a little part of his dark heart. He curses his decision to trap you here, clearly didn’t quite planned exactly what he was going to say or do which is also very unlike him. You always seemed to do that, keep him in his toes and making him act on instinct, even when you’re just vulnerable before him, sad eyes looking up at him

He liked it, but he’ll never admit it

Your heart rate accelerates and you fear you may pass out of the amount of emotions you are putting yourself through at the same time.

As if giving up, you answer softly- “I am just not feeling well… needed to freshen up” theres almost this embarrassment behind your confession, as if hating having to let him se you like this. You always had the habit of putting on a happy face for everyone around you, being the warm, trustworthy and helpful crewmate

But it was exhausting

Law feels like he’s drowning. He doesn’t know what to do, he goes trough a million options as you stand there all sad and tears already falling

“Do you want to… talk about it?” He settles on that

“Not really”

Another silence, and this one is so uncomfortable it has the surgeon of death wanting to pull his hair out, what now? Should he leave?, cry with you?, bring you water, a sandwich?

Suddenly a giggle escapes you, slowly building on a sweet laugh. The sound makes Law’s heart flip a couple times, pink dusting his cheeks in embarrassment but he’ll allow you to laugh at his cost if that makes you happy even just for a while

“You’re bad at this” you say wiping your tears with the back of your hand

“Yea whatever make fun of me” he says annoyed but with a hint of rare playfulness

“No, no! It’s endearing”

“That doesn’t make it better” a hand runs trough his disheveled dark locks, your eyes meet and both melt

You’re so dumb

After your laugh dies and you sniffle a little, the silence feels lighter, almost sweeter in a way and the weight of your shoulders seems to have disappeared into the night

Law smiles, a genuine smile and he’s glad you’re so understanding, keeping up with his awkwardness. He wants to reach out to you but doesn’t want to step in

“What can I do for you then?” There’s a glint of hope when his honey eyes land on yours once again, you smile sheepishly

“Can I get a hug?”

It’s almost stupid how big of a dorky smile breaks against Laws features, he thanks all the forces above for this opportunity and swears to make it count

“Of course”

Slowly, you walk up to him and land on his arms. A warm, sweet comforting hug envelopes you, soothing your worries and sadness making you sigh in satisfaction. His hands move up and down your spine, your sent invading his senses as he burns this moment in his memory forever

This is exactly what you needed.

extra

You laugh again, it rumbles all trough Law’s chest and he just stares down while holding you close and tight

“What’s so funny?”

“Your heart is going so fast Captain”

“Ok that’s enough teasing”

[starsdotalk]

Couldn't resist writing my own, this is my first time so NO JUDGING PLZ 🙏🏻 (excuse for the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language 🥲)

You once had a family in which you hold very dear to you, a fantastic one at that. Movie nights in the weekends, shopping sprees with your mom, teaching your little brother his homework, and helping your stepdad with his mechanical shenanigans. The normal domestic family one would always dream of. Everything was great! What else could you ask for?

----------------------------------------------

You remember that memory, you and you family were going to a museum. Your brother shouting your name to hurry up because "We will arrive to a longgggg line! I don't like waiting!" You we're sleepy, your movements were sluggish, you didn't feel like going out of your bed. Your stepdad told you that you could just sleep in the car on the way to the museum, that made you quickly get ready and hopped in the car.

On the road, You four were singing along to a song you don't remember much. Arriving and then walking in the museum was okay, strolling and looking at some animals that went extinct. Your brother went crazy when you guys arrived at the dinosaur section.

Everything was great! That is until the ground started shaking. it was slow at first, barely felt, and then it started shaking so fast that the T-Rex skeleton structure started to fall off one by one. The ground was shaking, so was your body. You felt terrified, the only thing that took you out of your terrified state was the reassuring hand of your mother holding yours and your stepdad's gaze that shouted a million reassuring words.

People were screaming, crying, running, and shouting. You were a brave kid, you didn't shout or cried. Amidst the chaos, you lost the warm feeling of your mother's hand Interlocked with yours, your father's gaze, and your brother's tight embrace.

You were alone and terrified. Standing alone in the middle of the room with tears spilling from your eyes, your mouth shut even though you want to shout for your family. What could a nine year old even do in a terrifying situation such as this? The next thing you know, the light is out.

You were welcomed by a white ceiling, Your eyes blurry, and your head throbbing in pain. A nurse comes up to you, was her name Alice? Alex? Ally? You don't remember. Her words were inaudible to you, probably asking about how you feel.

Then you remember what happened, your mom, dad, and brother where are they? Are they okay? What happened?With a small and broken voice, you asked about them. The nurse opened and closed her mouth as if unsure if she should tell you. For a few minutes she just kept pondering, you weren't an impatient child like your brother, but you felt as if you have his impatience right at this moment.

You asked again, clearly frustrated and confused. The doctor speaks up, when did he come in? He apologizes, says something about how they did everything they could, but still couldn't save them. What are they talking about? You were sure you heard your mom just calling out to you earlier, aren't they outside the room? They should come in, you want to see them.

You couldn't figure out what emotions was written all over the doctor and nurse's face. You we're always around joyful people, not whatever they we're feeling right at that time.

Suddenly a knock was heard on the door, your uncle stepped in the room. No mom, dad, or brother. Where are they? Are they still asleep?

You couldn't figure out what expression he was wearing again, it was similar to the doctor and the nurse. You didn't care because the next words your uncle let out was one you will never move on from.

"They're dead, your families dead." He says, his voice was odd, it had something more to it than normal. Your nine year old brain couldn't believe it. Them? Dead? No, your mom was calling out to you earlier, you heard her calling your voice!

You didn't take it lightly, you we're a child. A child mourning the lost of it's family.

----------------------------------------------

Fast forward to a week, you're in another city, a city far away from home. Your uncle couldn't take you in simply because he was a busy man. So here you are, Infront of your biological father's doorstep.

It's scary here compared to the lush green grass and blue blue skies of your home. A guy named Alfred accompanied you inside, it was empty. Clean yet empty. Very empty.

No toys laying around the place caused by your brother, no sweet scent of a dessert your mom was making, no dad fixing whatever he could find fixable. Where is he anyways? Where's your biological father? You were expecting a warm welcome. He's your biological father after all, the man your mom made you with.

But the welcome was far from your expectations. It was cold, shivering even. Only the Alfred guy made the place less horrifying.

How will your life go on? You were still mourning. And your dad not welcoming you made you feel worse.

Alfred says he's busy, that he will go and greet me later. You obviously believed him, he looked trustworthy.

He leads to a room, it was clean and smelt like cleaning materials. It was quite huge for the nine year old you, bigger than the room back at home.

Alfred offered you to eat, you denied, saying you were tired from the long flight and needed rest. He let you, obviously.

So, now you were staring at the dark ceiling without the glow in the dark stars you had back home. The room was quite, you didn't like the smell. The house was huge and scary. Maybe one day you'll find this house warm and you'll consider this place your new home.

Or maybe not.

Who knows?

Author's note:

THIS IS SO SHORT, IM SORRY 😭

I might make the next chapter longer, so, don't worry 😜

[i-cant-sing]

IMAGINE THE KAMO CLAN WANTS AN ALLIANCE WITH THE ZENIN

so they offer that noritoshi (who is secretly in love with teen!fushiguro reader) marry her, the zenin and the kamo have made this type of alliance for years, it is totally normal for them

but definitely the kamo did not wait for naoya to come to his house shouting that no kamo spawn is going to sully his sweet daughter---- NIECE

when the others hear the news, toji, gojo, nanami, megumi, mai and maki arrive, ALSO SUKUNA WHO TOOK POSSESSION OF YUJI'S BODY

poor noritoshi

AHahaha yesss, I mean the elders just wanted to form an alliance, and neither clan really knew just how strong Fushiguro reader was as a toddler, so it was right to arrange a marriage for you.

As a child, Noritoshi didnt really care much for you, especially since he had battles of his own- being born to a mistress, being the heir of the clan because the head wife couldnt bear sons so, he has to deal with that.

But youre adorable and you grow on anyone, even the Zenin clan, so when toddler Fushiguro reader meets 9 year old Noritoshi, the latter only thinks of you as a spoiled brat at first. And why wouldnt he? Youre running around barefoot in the garden, dressed in sparkly pink hello kitty pjs with servants chasing after you, with Naoya screaming from the shed that he'll lock you up if he catches you grabbing his million dollar koi fish.

Noritoshi's disgust is quite understandable when you come upto him, hair disheveled, face sweaty, and you stick your muddy hand to his face.

"Hi! Im Y/n Fushiguro!" "ZENIN! Y/N ZENIN!" Naoya yells before dragging you away for training (Naoya didnt want you to meet your future husband).

As time goes on, Noritoshi would be sent to the Zenin estate on different errands (by this point, the Kamo clan has heard rumors of your powers and now want Noritoshi to go and woo you, which is a huge task since Noritoshi isnt someone who is able to express emotions, much less romantic ones). But even though he might not be able to express his emotions, doesnt mean his heart hasnt turned soft for you. Youre pollar opposite to him, loud, energetic, carefree- and yet Noritoshi cant help but feel that you... sort of complete him. Youre everything hes not and he likes that. Like 2 puzzle pieces that fit together, he completes you too. Hes quiet, calm, realistic- he brings peace to you, especially when youre mind gets overstimulated by- well, you.

How many times has it been that Noritoshi has stopped your panic attacks when you realised that your father Toji, wasnt coming back? How many times has Noristoshi had to pull you into his robes when your cursed energy started to lose control, risking himself just to calm you down and help you control it as his soft monotonous voice guided you through it?

And how many times has it been that Noritoshi would have his terrible day turned around with just you calling him "Nori!"? Or the times he'd be questioning his worth in the clan and all he needed was you to lean your head against his shoulder to feel like a million bucks? Noritoshi would be the type of man who people would think doesnt really care about love and marriage, when in reality, he just spent the entire night listening to you yap about your day, about Hello Kitty, about uncle Naoya, pausing in between to say "hmm, okay its getting late, we should sleep" only to suddenly remember a new topic to ramble on about. And youd think Noritoshi wanst listenting to you with the way hes staring at your face in awe, but really- he remembers every single word. You could quiz him. Its funny listening to man like him talk about Hello Kitty.

When the time comes for you two to actually get married, Naoya throws a fit, and surprisingly, the Zenin clan also doesnt want to marry you off to Kamo clan (or anyone). People opposing the marriage from your side would be the Zenin clan, the twins (who start telling you all the reasons why marriage is a trap and youd be dead in 2 days.), Gojo (he just chuckles and tells you not to worry because he wont let you be forced into marriage), Nanami (my man wholeheartedly believes youre being a victim of child marriage, BUT NOT ON HIS WATCH! GONNA KILL ANYONE WHO EVEN THINKS OF U LIKE THAT- just sit in his condo and eat the sandwhich he made for you. And dont argue.), Megumi (who doenst get why he wasnt ever informed that you, his baby sister, was in an arranged marriage, and why the hell didnt Noritoshi try to get his blessings/permission considering THAT HES YOUR CLOSEST FAMILY MEMBER??? Also, no- youre not marrying Kamo) and then... theres Sukuna (if you thought Naoya threw a fit, youre in for A WORLD OF TANTRUMS AS SUKUNA SCREAMS AND MOST LIKELY KILLS WHOEVER IS IN A MILE VICINITY, just to let off some steam and calm down before he talks to you and REMINDS YOU THAT YOU PROMISED TO MARRY HIM! HAVE YOU BEEN PROPOSING TO EVERY GUY YOU MET?)

People supporting this union would be all from Noritishi's side, including- the Kamo clan, Choso Kamo (cause ofc, youre just a precious baby like Yuji, and with you being part of the clan means he can protect u better), and surprise surprise Kenjaku (because youd be strong addition to the clan and then you and Nori will have babies with SUPER STRONG CURSED ENERGY AND HE'LL ACCOMPLISH HIS PLAN FOR WORLD DOMINATION).

Anyways, its a sticky situation and it all comes down to you really. Do you want to marry Noritoshi or not?

[dollarbils]

wish you were gay | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. billie’s feelings towards your friendship changes as you battle the question of your own sexuality.

warnings. angst kinda, making out, fluff.

masterlist

your sexuality had always been a lingering question throughout your friendship with billie. you found yourself thinking about certain interactions more than you’d like to admit. and despite her own sexuality, you’d always chalked it up to being platonic.

however, recently you’d seen a change in her behavior. she wouldn’t touch you like she used to. she wouldn’t say the same things, call you the affectionate names she usually would. and you found yourself missing it more than a friend should. it was confusing to say the least.

“hey, is everything okay?” you set down the glasses of water you’d gotten for the both of you, and sat next to her on the couch as her gaze lifted from her phone and she took the glass of water to her lips.

“what do you mean?” she cleared her throat, her phone still capturing most of her attention. it was hard to express your current emotions through words, especially when you felt like the topic might be too heavy to discuss.

“i mean you’ve been acting different recently.” you told her as she looked up from her phone again, biting the inside of her lip slightly before speaking.

“what do you mean different?” she was now aware of what you were getting at but didn’t have the courage to speak on it, and neither did you.

“come on bils.” the nickname stung her heart with the recent switch in your friendship. but she kept up the dumb act, out of fear that if the truth came out, it could mean the end.

“what do you mean by different?” she asked again, this time urging a real answer. you pondered on how to say it without really saying it. the avoidance of the real question between you, palpable.

“you’ve been so distant, like somethings bothering you.” you admitted truthfully. you began to wonder if you had something to do with her sudden change. and when she didn’t reply, you voiced this, “have i done something?” her eyes widened slightly, her expression still somewhat sorrow.

“no, baby, of course not.” there it is. that nickname you’d missed so much these past few weeks. she cursed herself silently as she realised she’d let the name slip, but you’d caught it all the same.

“then what is it bils?” you asked, a feeling of helplessness washing over you as she refused to open up. the silence between you was deafening and made you grow worried.

“has it really affected you?” she asked after some time. the doubt evident in her expression as she put her phone to the side, giving this conversation her full attention.

“of course it has, you’re my best friend billie, how could it not.” she looked down with a heavy sigh at your words. it gave an impression of how tired she was.

“i thought that’s how best friends should act. i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” she admitted, her eyes now big and sincere. filled with emotions destined to break your heart.

“what do you mean?” you asked confused. it felt like a stupid excuse at first glance, but when she gave you some time to think on her words you understood. “billie, you could never make me uncomfortable.” your words were softer now.

“that’s the problem.” she sighed. closing herself off, urging you to reach for her again.

“why is it a problem?” the million dollar question with an unbelievably simple answer.

“because it means two different things to the both of us. for you it’s the way best friends act, for me-” she stopped, struggling to get the words out. she was scared and it was evident.

“for you?” you urged her to finish the sentence.

“for me it’s different.” that was all she managed to get out, and it left you with just as many questions as it did answers. “don’t pretend like you don’t know what i’m talking about, i know you do.” she said when you didn’t speak.

“billie i just don’t know if what your trying to say is coming across the way you want it to.” you replied finally, pondering your feelings and emotions.

“i can’t stand another day of me touching you the way i do, without it being something more. i just kinda wish you were gay.” you let out a small breath after her words, not having known this was how she’d been feeling these last couple months.

“bils, i don’t think i-“ you started.

“don’t say I’m not your type.” she cut in, before you could explain yourself. she was right, you’d always thought she was incredibly attractive. but it had never crossed your mind that you could be attracted to her.

“billie, you’re so beautiful. genuinely, but i don’t know if i can love you in the way you want me to.” you told her honestly. it was just as confusing for you as it was for her.

“then why do you miss my touch. why do you blush when i call you baby. cause let me tell you something, that’s not how best friends act.” she left you somewhat speechless, because it’s not like her words were untrue.

“i just. i’ve never been with a girl.” her eyes were piercing into you, her mind clinging onto the words falling from your mouth, searching for the fine print.

“i know. but i’d like to think the way you feel about me is a little more than platonic.” you nodded at her words understanding what she was saying and silently agreeing. “i’d like to think you were gay.” she continued, matching her previous words. needless to say your heart was racing.

“i don’t know,” you said honestly, “but there’s kinda only one way to find out.” you breathed, it was barely a whisper but she heard it and her senses were alert.

“yeah?” she asked if you meant what she thought you did. while her eyes were constantly travelling to your lips.

“yeah.” you confirmed as she moved closer to you. subconsciously you felt yourself staring down at her lips in return.

“what if we’re wrong?” she asks, almost making you whine at the hold up, but the weight of your friendship suddenly becoming apparent when she brought it up.

“then we’re wrong, but i don’t want to miss you like i’ve had to in the past few weeks again. so i think it’s worth it.” she smiled at your words as her lips touched yours, before moving, until she was kissing you and you were kissing her back.

you’d never kissed lips this soft before. and it was addictive. and when she darted her tongue across your bottom lip, opening her mouth, letting you taste her. you’d never tasted someone so sweet before. you whined at the taste and she moaned into your mouth, before lifting yourself off the couch as her arms reached for your hips, guiding you onto her lap. As you straddled her, she broke the kiss. your eyes fluttered open to find her smiling at you.

“what?” you asked, her smile so infectious it caused your own.

“i wanna stay with you, forever.” she spoke

“i’ll never let you go.” you told her, holding her head in your hands as she pulled you closer by the waist.

“five words i never thought you’d say.” she replied biting her lip as she looked up at you and you reconnected your lips with hers. the moment between you two feeling like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.